


Jonquil

by BlackKite7



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Drunkenness, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, Group Dates, Hanamaki works at a tattoo parlor while Matsukawa works at a flower shop close by, Love Hotels, M/M, Oikawa and Iwaizumi know what's up but are hopeless themselves, Pining, Slow Burn, Unrequited Love, also yui and kiyoko maybs because i can't stop it seems, daisuga starts at chapter 12 sorry, friends of friends that are equal parts awkward and in love with a small serving of sexual tension, iwaoi and daisuga are secondary ships to matsuhana but i will be writing multiple chapters for each, non-established relationship, other characters to appear potentially, partly college!au, switching POVs, tagged mature for eventual smut, the iwaoi part of the story is mentioned early but kicks off around ch8 and there's more to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-13 09:39:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 50,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4516989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackKite7/pseuds/BlackKite7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hanamaki works at a tattoo parlor close to the heart of the city, and what began as an errand turned into a series of surprise encounters with Matsukawa, the flower shop attendant that is all too easy to get comfortable around, and Hanamaki finds it difficult to keep the handsome man out of his mind.</p><p>At the same time, Iwaizumi and Oikawa try to assess where they stand as friends or something more, and Sugawara wonders if the heart wants what it really wants.<br/> </p><p>I missed the most of MatsuHana Week (2015 at some point), so I’m combining a few of the prompts into a chaptered story, so enjoy this thing prompted of: Day 3 – Tattoos and Flower Shops, Day 4 – At Midnight + No Control, Day 5 – Piercings, and Day 6 – Love is Never Ever Simple. Additional chapters throughout for IwaOi and DaiSuga. <b>Tags will be updated as the story progresses.</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Recommendation

The tattoo parlour was filled with a loud buzzing noise that could only be produced by the electric tattoo guns being used, and could not be silenced by the music playing through the speaker system. When he first started the job, he found that sound irritating, almost grating, and his skin would often prickle as if in anticipation of being tattooed himself – despite being all too familiar with the sound and sensation himself. But now, having worked at the parlour for some months, he found it to be just another kind of background noise. It was familiar to him, almost comforting.

He was able to drown out the sound when he worked. When customers would seat themselves in the tattooing chair, all he could focus on was the design, the flourish of lines and colours that suited their whims. He could feel the rotary machine vibrate in his hands as the needles pierced skin, flooding it with ink and creating the tattoo they so desired. He always found it satisfying when a customer started to cry or became giddy with excitement when seeing the finished product.

“Oi, Hanamaki.” The voice of one of his superiors called out to him and he twisted in his chair to look over his shoulder at the manager. “When you’re finished, come here. I need you to run an errand.”

“Sure.” He nodded and, turning back around, apologised to his customer for the interruption, and began to explain to them how to care for their tattoo while the skin was healing. He guided them to the front and had a pleasant conversation with them, even joking with them about something useless he immediately forgot about thereafter before turning to find his manager.

The manager himself worked on the floor, a well-known tattooist himself. Working on a large tattoo on someone’s back, the small area was blocked off by decorative wall dividers that gave them some privacy. Hanamaki leaned his shoulder against it, watching his manager work.

“What’s up?” He asked without hesitation. Everyone in the parlour had a laid-back personality, and despite some of the great age differences, no one was hung up on addressing others in any particular way, so long as it was done respectfully. That was something Hanamaki loved about his new job; that he could be as relaxed and teasing as he wanted, and that his colleagues would do the very same.

“Minami is coming back to work tomorrow, so I’d like you to pop down the street and get something for her.” His manager never took his eyes off his canvas, managing a simple conversation as he tattooed his customer.

“Like what? I don’t exactly know Minami well…” Rather, he found her obnoxious…and a little too familiar for his tastes.

“Just get her some flowers or something. And don’t even think about getting some cheap convenience store crap either.”

“Should I get some chocolates and movie tickets while I’m at it? A diamond ring?”

“Just go get some flowers, smart-ass.”

Hanamaki all but rolled his eyes as he turned away, shaking his head as he did so. It was annoying. He knew well he was being sent on the errand because he was, in relative terms, the new kid in the shop. Despite their laid-back attitudes in the store, they often dumped work on him because of this. Maybe it was some half-assed attempt at hazing.

Whatever the reason, he simply told himself to get on with it. At least he would get a little break out of it.

And he found comfort that he wasn’t paying for out of his own pocket. One of his colleagues manning the admin area – a small but stylish bar-like desk where payments and appointments were organised – handed him an envelope within _Minami_ written on it, obviously the money set aside for her back to work gift. Before he left, his colleague whispered good luck to him, obviously poking fun at his reluctance, and he couldn’t keep himself from scoffing as he thudded out the door.

The spring air was cool and refreshing, and Hanamaki pulled his phone from his back pocket to check the time. It was early afternoon, but he didn’t like that this errand had been left so late. A flower shop might close early for whatever reason. Such things like this, leaving jobs to the late portion of work hours, was something he had learned to tolerate, no matter how much it bugged him.

But when a cool breeze ruffled his light brown hair and made his jacket flap about behind him, he felt uplifted. The blank expression on his face never changed, save for the softening around his eyes that to a stranger would only make him seem tired.

The streets were full of people, and Hanamaki weaved between them until he eventually stopped, realising he had no idea if there was even a flower shop nearby. He cursed under his breath and took his phone out once more, quickly moving to the side of the street so not to obstruct anyone. Eventually he found the address of one relatively close by after some clever searching online, which in and of itself he found strange, given the fact that the Red Light District was close as well. Then again, he had to wonder what kind of business they might get because of that fact alone.

He snickered at the idea of some sleazy bastard buying flowers for a prostitute that would forget about them that night, and continued on his way, glancing back at his phone to guide him.

He arrived no more than fifteen minutes later, and found himself standing out the front for a little bit, as if analysing it. It looked like any other ordinary flower shop, with a variety of flowers inside, and some stalls set up outside with flowers that were on special. He sighed and braced himself, entering the shop without another moment of hesitation. He was immediately hit by the sweet scent of pollen in the air, and almost sneezed. He composed himself quickly as he began to look around, and raised a brow when he noticed a number of women lingering in an aisle close by with one of the shop attendants. Hanamaki could only see his back, broad and tall compared to the thin frames hovering at his sides.

“Do you have anything with a more…spring…feeling?”

The question posed to the attendant was so vague that Hanamaki himself felt sorry for the poor soul. The attendant quickly recommend some options to the girls, but they seemed more interested in being beside him rather than the flowers themselves.

“Excuse me.” Hanamaki raised himself on his tiptoes to pop his head higher over the aisles over flowers separating them, despite towering over them already. “Can I get some help?”

The attendant eagerly turned his head, and Hanamaki had to reign in his smirk at such a desperate reaction to be freed from the two girls leaning against him in a not so subtle way. Then again, taking in the person’s features, he couldn’t really blame them. The tanned man was, in a word, handsome. But that word itself didn’t seem to do the man justice. Dark and messy hair that was all too tempting to touch, and his eyes were hooded and narrowed in a way that made it look like he was either tired or indifferent, but the tiny smile on his face that was obviously strained at this point made him seem more welcoming, although Hanamaki could clearly see how unimpressed he was by the girl’s lack of intent to buy anything. The attendant quickly looked away, offering a brief apology to the girls and encouraged them to decide between themselves what they liked best, and all too abruptly left their side to approach Hanamaki.

The handsome attendant quickened his pace to reach him, and noticing this, Hanamaki’s lips pulled into a smirk. He had to rub his face in a vain attempt to stop himself.

“Hey now, don’t be _too_ eager to help me.” Hanamaki mused softly, snickering a little. The attendant smirked a little back at him, clearly understanding what he meant.

“I’ll give you discount for rescuing me.” The man breathed out quietly, like a special secret between them. Hanamaki chuckled again. “What do you need help with?” The attendant asked, and Hanamaki finally noticed the deep voice he possessed, speaking slow and calmly in a way that was almost soothing. Maybe the girls from before had been around him simply for that.

“Uh…one of my co-workers is coming back from a break tomorrow so I need something that’s…welcoming…” Hanamaki trailed off, suddenly cursing himself for such a terrible description. He reminded himself to talk to his manager about his lack of detailing tasks.

“So, you got the short end of the stick, hm?” The attendant laughed, a short huff made under his breath, and Hanamaki felt less annoyed at himself. He briefly explained the circumstances in more detail, emphasising his distaste of the co-worker in question, and how his superiors had probably sent him for that reason alone, and smiled to himself as the attendant laughed at the small-talk that would keep him occupied and away from the fawning women currently glaring daggers at Hanamaki. “Well, anything yellow would be suitable; it’s the most, well, welcoming of colours. Do you have any kind of flower in mind?”

“What would _you_ recommend,” Hanamaki paused a moment, dropping his gaze for a moment to peek at his nametag. The attendant was only a few centimetres taller, but being slightly broader than himself, he seemed much larger in comparison. “Matsukawa?”

“I’ll get a catalogue, and we can pick something appropriate.” The attendant, Matsukawa, pointed over his shoulder and when Hanamaki agreed with his offer, left his side to get said catalogue. Hanamaki watched him leave, raising a brow at the way the folded down apron moved with the shift of his hips, and his eyes travelled up to the muscled arm stretching over the counter to reach a stack of booklets. Noticing that his eyes was wandering, Hanamaki tore his gaze away and began to look about the flower arrangements half-heartedly before the attendant caught him staring.

Matsukawa returned with the catalogue in hand, and standing close at Hanamaki’s side, opened it to show him the contents. Hanamaki listened carefully, but at the same time, he was distracted by the innocent brushing of their arms due to their closeness. It was purely innocent, done only so that the attendant – who, by some fluke of the universe, was an incredibly attractive man – could properly show him the stock they had. To make matters worse, Matsukawa smelled nice. Maybe it was a cologne? Or had the sweetness of the flowers just stuck to him during his shift? Whatever it was, Hanamaki wasn’t complaining in the slightest.

Despite himself, they managed to pick out a series of flowers to put into a bouquet, and Hanamaki sighed as the task had been arranged.

“That was more difficult that I thought it would be.” Hanamaki breathed out and rubbed the back of his neck with both his hands. He tilted his head back and sighed again. Matsukawa grinned at him slightly, amused by his exhaustion over something so simple.

“If it’s troubling for you, we do deliveries. We can bring the bouquet around on the day so it’s fresh and doesn’t get damaged.” The offer was simple and genuine – part of the job – but it made Hanamaki feel relieved. If he were to be entrusted with bringing it back, it might accidently get squashed.

_Accidently_ , of course.

“That would probably be best…” Hanamaki said after a moment, and was then ushered by Matsukawa to the front so they could finalise everything. The payment was arranged first, so that it was out of the way. Hanamaki then wrote down the address of the tattoo parlour so it could be delivered the next day, along with a time to do so. Matsukawa paused to look over the slip of paper, looking at it curiously after a moment.

“This is fairly close by.” He said, almost to himself, and Hanamaki nodded.

“It’s the tattoo shop, right next door to that travel agency place or whatever it is.” He explained.

“Oh?” Matsukawa lifted his gaze, showing him that amused grin again. “So, you’re a tattoo artist then?”

“Ah…yeah.” He was still unused to be referred to as a tattoo _artist_. He had finished all his training, and had been well recommended by his instructors, but it was still an odd feeling for him. “If you ever want a tattoo, I can give you a discount for the help.”

Matsukawa laughed a little more openly, a deep throaty chuckle, at having his own words said back to him. Hanamaki almost shivered at the sound of that chuckle, but choose to ignore his reaction.

“I’ll hold you to that someday.” Matsukawa said and, much to Hanamaki’s displeasure, it was back to business. Matsukawa repeated his order, and confirmed the payment amount and delivery arrangements.

“Thanks for the help. This could have been a total disaster.” Hanamaki said as he readied to leave.

“I’m sure you would have been _devastated_.” Matsukawa said teasingly, having picked up on his mild annoyance very early on.

“Heartbroken, truly.” Hanamaki said and began to turn away, waving over his shoulder at the attendant. “Thanks again.”

“You’re welcome back anytime you get a crappy errand dumped on you.” Matsukawa replied as he leaned on the counter. He looked at Hanamaki kindly, but there was still that amused glint in his dark brown eyes, and Hanamaki once again refused to acknowledge the barely-there feeling of his skin quivering. “Be safe on your way.”

Hanamaki thanked him once last time before turning around fully, and feeling those eyes on his back, left the shop without another word.

He retraced his steps back to the tattoo parlour, keeping his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket as he walked slowly, enjoying the peace he had before it was back to word. His mind wandered back, however, to Matsukawa. ‘ _That whole thing was like something out of a bad shoujo manga…_ ’ Hanamaki thought to himself. Reaching up to rub his eyes, Hanamaki paused as his fingers brushed against his cheek, and he felt a soft warmth there.

“Shit…” He mumbled to himself, and felt that warmth intensify as he could no longer hold back the faint blush that was creeping over his face. The tips of his ears and the back of his neck were a similar colour to his face at that point.

‘ _This is so ridiculous_ ,’ He thought and hoped the spring breeze would cool his face. Hanamaki grumbled under his breath, hoping that he would calm down enough before he got back to the parlour. He was just a little frazzled by the handsome attendant. He had fooled around a little with guys in the past; it wasn’t so unfamiliar to him.

But that guy – this Matsukawa – was his type in almost every way. He didn’t want to spend too much time thinking about that.

But he knew he would find himself in some trouble tomorrow.


	2. Chance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was honestly going to do serious work today and then...this happened. And will probably keep happening. Oh dear.

Matsukawa lingered in the back room of the flower shop, making the final adjustments to bouquets he would have to deliver shortly. While he often found it annoying to haul crates and bouquets of flowers around through a busy city, today he made an exception. His manager had been stunned into silence when he offered to do the deliveries the last night. It was amusing, leaving her standing shocked with her jaw hanging as he left after his shift.

A flash of yellow in the corner of his eye drew his attention for the eighth time that morning. He wouldn’t need to make that delivery until just before noon, and he would set off to do the others afterwards. Reaching for the label, Matsukawa flipped it over in his hand and mumbled the name written there.

“Hanamaki…” The name rolled easily off his tongue, a name that seemed soft to say but it didn’t quite match the owner. At first, the shorter fellow had appeared stand-offish and distant, but the second Matsukawa saw that wide, cheeky smirk and the mischievous glint in his eyes he knew otherwise. He wondered briefly what his first name was, but quickly cast it from his mind.

He finished making the arrangements for the flower bouquets and carefully loaded them into a woven crate to ensure none would become undone. Another of his co-workers had accidently crashed the bike the use to make local deliveries, and so he would have to go on foot. Before leaving, he made a light-hearted jab at his manager, saying she ought to be grateful he is taking care of the deliveries the old fashioned way. She merely laughed at him, having gotten used to his sarcastic humour, and shooed him out the door.

He had written down the route to his first delivery that morning so not to get lost along the way, and quickly set off down the street. It was fairly busy, given that is was a Friday morning, and he kept to the side of the pavement as much as possible to let other pass as he carried the woven basket. The tattoo parlour lacked an outdoor banner of some kind, and he almost walked past if he hadn’t peered in the window and seen a familiar face from yesterday.

Entering, Matsukawa stood just before the reception area, looking around the parlour before his eyes settled on his customer standing near the back of the parlour by a door leading to the back. There were few people in the store, but Matsukawa noted the dividers that were set up in some parts, and knew that others might be working. It was a moment before Hanamaki himself turned, mostly because the person he was speaking with – Matsukawa assumed it was his manager – tilted his head and began to focus on him.

“Oh,” Once Hanamaki noticed him, he quickly turned his head back to his manager whilst taking a step back towards the reception area. “Hold that thought.”

In a few brief strides, Hanamaki was standing before Matsukawa. Yesterday he had worn a jacket which had hidden the slender but muscled form, and today he was surprisingly loosely dressed – even if he was working in a tattoo parlour. Nothing more than a layering of loose singlets that exposed his muscled arms and thin collarbone and a pair of jeans that were torn around the thighs and knees, although it seemed like it wasn’t by design with how haphazard the tearing was. Matsukawa immediately noticed the tattoo curling up his left arm from the wrist up to his shoulder, where it seemed to extend just a little higher towards the nape of his neck. It consisted almost entirely of pure black ink aside form splatters of colour that seemed as though they were watercolours, merging and blending together admit a pattern of geometric shapes and spiralling designs.

Matsukawa could not help but wonder how long such a tattoo would have taken to design and ink. And how much it would have cost.

“Did you forget about the delivery?” Matsukawa teased him openly, smiling a little as Hanamaki welcomed him.

“No, I was just wondering if I had given you the correct time.” Hanamaki smiled sheepishly as he spoke and lifted his hands to touch his neck, rubbing the nape gently. “You’re a total lifesaver. Boss would’ve killed me if I’d gotten it wrong.”

“What a waste that would be.” Matsukawa sighed the words, smirking still as he dipped his head to the crate, where Hanamaki’s bouquet was resting. Hanamaki reached forward, collecting it and holding it near his chest, worried that he might drop it otherwise. Matsukawa could not help but think it suited him, in both appearance and name, which he chuckled at inwardly once more.

“I’m not sure what you-” Hanamaki could not finish his sentence as the door to parlour was thrust open, and a short girl with tattoos dancing across her arms from her fingertips to her shoulders entered, a wide, overconfident grin on her face.

“Who missed me?” She hollered, and Matsukawa could see Hanamaki very obviously grimacing and had to purse his lips to silence the laugh that dared to come out, his cheeks puffing up just slightly as he held it back.

An awkward situation came about as the manager saunter over greeted the girl – Matsukawa wasn’t listening intently enough to catch her name – and Hanamaki was left standing there, holding a bouquet of flowers beside Matsukawa, with a crate full of other orders. When Matsukawa looked at Hanamaki from the corner of his eye, he could practically see the way the light-haired man was shrinking a little, as if hoping to become invisible. He had succeeded, up until Matsukawa snickered quite loudly at Hanamaki’s obvious reactions, and suddenly the eyes of the two before them drifted in their direction.

“No way!” The girl spoke loudly and excitedly, and skipped towards Matsukawa, ogling him for a moment before looking at the flowers. “Are these all for me?”

“They’re definitely _not_ , these are yours.” Hanamaki all but threw the bouquet of flowers at her, and she leered at him in a knowing way, and Matsukawa had to wonder why.

“Oh, you big sweetie-”

“Shut up.”

“You _do_ care.”

“ _Shut up_.”

The girl laughed, clearly amused by Hanamaki’s defiant protests and settled her hands on her hips as she regarded Matsukawa again.

“Well, bad luck for you big guy, coming all the way here.” When Matsukawa gave her a quizzical look, she turned her smirk on her colleagues. “My little brother is allergic to pollen, so I can’t take these home.”

“Boss…” Hanamaki inched closer to his manager, holding up the bouquet of now ruffled roses. The manager’s face had stiffened into a tight grin. Obviously he hadn’t known, and was clearly as unimpressed by his foolishness as Hanamaki was. “What are you gonna do about this?”

“I might not be able to take the flowers home, but I’ll happily take the hunk~” The girl began to muse as she looked up at Matsukawa again.

“That’s…” Matsukawa cleared his throat, unsure as to how he would turn her down exactly. He really had no interest in her, or dating for that manner. Before he could speak, he suddenly felt a pair of hands on his arm, gently pushing him towards the door.

“Sorry, but this guy is still working, so you better let him go.” Hanamaki was quick to leap to his aid, ushering him out the door and following in turn. The girl pouted and crossed her arms, but clearly in good fun as she quickly turned back to her manager, chatting happily once more.

Having been guided outside, Matsukawa merely stood there for a moment, registering what would happen next as Hanamaki shifted to stand beside him, grumbling under his breath. There was a quiet silence for a few moments, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Matsukawa waited patiently, as Hanamaki had a thoughtful look on his face; he was clearly thinking of something to say.

“Sorry you had to come here for nothing.” Hanamaki eventually looked up at him, and his expression was more apologetic than Matsukawa had anticipated.

“Don’t worry about it.” A sly grin tugged at Matsukawa’s lips as he regarded Hanamaki. “You made a pretty hilarious face back there when she looked at you. That was worth the trip.”

“Oh, _ha ha_ , you ass.” Hanamaki’s voice was dripping in sarcasm as he crossed his arms, huffing at the taller errand boy.

“What do you want to do about those?” Matsukawa directed his gaze downward, looking at the slightly disarranged roses.

“What?” Hanamaki’s expression went utterly blank.

“The flowers.” Still holding the crate in box hands, Matsukawa nodded to the bouquet Hanamaki had unthinkingly carried out with him.  “We can arrange for a refund, since there wasn’t really a need for the order.”

Hanamaki was quiet as he considered this. Slowly, he turned his gaze to the bouquet of yellow roses. The stems were a little crumpled under the bouquet wrappings and some of the petals had become ruffled and out of place, mostly from his tight grip, but the overall, they seemed fine. Touching the soft petals with the tips of his fingers, Hanamaki breathed out a sigh.

“No. That’d be a waste, right?” He tilted his head, smirking up at Matsukawa. And there it was again, that mischievous glint in his eyes – a cheeky little look that made him seem…well, rather cute. “Although, they’ll probably die in a few days…”

“Are you that bad at looking after things?” Matsukawa couldn’t stop smirking at that point. Hanamaki was amusing, in a subtle way, and it was surprisingly easy to talk to him.

“My parents wouldn’t even let me have a hamster as a kid.” Matsukawa wasn’t able to tell if he was being sincere or not, but that didn’t stop him from laughing about it. “You’re laughing way too hard…”

Matsukawa continued to snigger however, and as he did so, Hanamaki pouted and instead cast his gaze back to the flowers, glaring at them as if the inanimate object had insulted him. The tips of the tattooist’s ears were turning pink out of embarrassment. Matsukawa carefully shifted the crate in his arms, easily holding it with one arm as he reached forward and took hold of the bouquet, his fingers brushing against Hanamaki’s as he pulled it free from his grasp. Hanamaki made a soft startled noise, not having expected as much, and Matsukawa placed the bouquet back into the crate, being mindful of the other orders.

“This one doesn’t suit you, so I’ll come back later with a refund for it.” Matsukawa shifted the crate in his arms again, and when he looked at Hanamaki, he smiled kindly, and kept himself from smirking at the tattoo artist’s confused expression. “So come back to the shop sometime soon, and I’ll make you another.”

“Oh. Ah, sure. I’ll come by next week, I’ve got time off then.” Hanamaki was quick to answer and Matsukawa agreed, giving him a few dates when he had scheduled shifts he could turn up to.

Matsukawa had to bid him a quick goodbye however, as he still had other deliveries to make, but again emphasised that Hanamaki should indeed come back to the shop. Hanamaki agreed several times, waving him along as he clearly needed to get a hurry on. Hanamaki watched as Matsukawa jogged away, his eyes following the way his shoulders and hips swung with his gait and he shook his head as he turned to enter the parlour.

And for whatever reason, Matsukawa dared to look back over his shoulder, and felt a small pang of disappointment as he saw a figure move back inside the shop and faintly heard the door clank shut. He looked forward quickly, not wanting to bump into a pedestrian on his way, but felt a little eager to return later that evening, even if only briefly.

He wondered if Hanamaki would actually come by the shop next week. In his mind, he began to wonder about it further, considering what kind of a bouquet he could make. He would definitely have to ask Hanamaki about his preferences.

Inwardly, he cringed. His manager’s love of flower arrangements had rubbed off on him after all it seemed. Then again, he wouldn’t have stayed in the job if he had disliked it. It was easy money when he wasn’t studying and it was pleasant enough.

And, continuing on his way, he quietly put his eagerness for the coming week to the back of his mind, where it began to stir.

 

* * *

 

 Matsukawa had indeed returned later that evening, but the shop closed early on Friday afternoons, so Hanamaki did not have much of an opportunity to speak to him as the manager sorted out the refund.

It was late afternoon by the time he got to his station, and the sun was beginning to set. The walk home from the station wasn’t far, but it was enough to make Hanamaki curse himself for not having gotten his licence. Though it wasn’t as if he could afford a car. A bike would be more suitable.

The apartment complex he lived in was nothing grand, and it was relatively small compared to others in the residential areas. But, it was cheap and close to his job, so he didn’t mind. While his neighbours were well mannered enough, none of them seemed to go out of their way to engage with each other, which suited him just fine. He was able to come and go as he pleased without someone sticking their nose in his business or asking him to watch their pet or something other.

When he staggered inside his apartment, he immediately kicked off his shoes and trudged into the small kitchen adjacent to the hallway. The fridge was usually stocked with food and drink, but he had been slack with shopping that week, so there was less to decide on, and he mumbled that he had nothing sweet to eat.

Taking a can of soft drink out of the fridge, he opened it just as he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. The vibration startled him a little, causing him to drop the can onto the bench. It fizzed and spouted soda, and Hanamaki swore as he quickly threw it into the sink, swearing more as it spat open and gushed everywhere. He swore again and again under his breath as he wiped up the mess before it dried and became sticky.

Once done, he begrudgingly took out his phone, glaring at it and praying that whatever message he had received was a good one considering what had come from it. The message was from a close friend, Oikawa Tooru, who studied at one of the universities nearby. In the summer, they made a habit of going down to the shore and playing beach volleyball. But mostly Oikawa tried to invite him out, and when he wasn’t, he was usually taking up space in Hanamaki’s already small apartment to study.

_‘Maki-chan! Are you free tomorrow night?’_

Hanamaki knew he would regret responding, and sighed as he typed out his reply.

_‘If you ask me to attend another mixer, you’re buying me sukiyaki later.’_

Oikawa’s reply was quicker than Hanamaki hoped it would be, and he read the message as he ventured into the lounge and lay down on his couch.

_‘No way! Anyways, you’ll want to come, there’s a guy who is definitely your type coming!’_

_‘Have you already forgotten what happened last time??’_

_‘Maki-chan! Have faith! Hold on, let me sneak a picture of him.’_

Hanamaki rolled his eyes, and wrote a message telling him not to bother, and flipped on the television, surfing through channels. He didn’t receive a reply as quickly as Oikawa was prone to, and figured he had become disheartened. But as he was half-heartedly watching the news, his phone buzzed twice, and Hanamaki sighed as he picked up his phone and touched his finger against the screen opening the messages up.

The messages consisted of a simple text of ‘ _told you he’s handsome~_ ’ and a photo that had been sent, and scrolling on the screen, Hanamaki’s eyes widened as he stared at it.

The photo was blurry and a little out focus, but Hanamaki could recognise the person pretty well. Tall and broad, with messy dark hair that was styled into an undercut, and hooded, squinting eyes that made his smile seem sneaky and sly. It was the flower shop attendant, Matsukawa.

“What the hell is this…?” Hanamaki felt his face become a little red as he narrowed his eyes at the screen. He almost wondered if this was some kind of hoax, although Oikawa wasn’t the type to play that kind of joke. He was, actually.

Another text was sent, moving the picture up and Hanamaki read it quickly.

_‘Totally your type! So, will you come?_ _≖_ _‿_ _≖’_

Oikawa didn’t have to send the emoji, but Hanamaki knew that was no doubt the exact expression his idiotic friend was looking at his phone with. Smug and confident. Hanamaki didn’t reply to the message straight way. Instead, he lay flat on his back and rested his palm against his forehead. It had to be some kind of joke, right? What were the actual chances of that happening? Of Oikawa somehow knowing that handsome flower guy down the road from his workplace?

He could hardly believe it.

His phone continued to vibrate in his hand; no doubt Oikawa demanding a response, even a sarcastic one, and after a moment, Hanamaki sat up and sent a simple reply. Either out of some subconscious embarrassment about it being Matsukawa of everyone in Tokyo or just out of reluctance to admit in some way that he was right about Hanamaki’s _type_.

_‘I’ll go.’_


	3. Just A Few Drinks

Hanamaki felt sly, attending a mixer for the sole purpose of spending time near the handsome flower shop attendant he had met barely a few days prior. It was dishonest, but that wasn’t enough to stop him from going anyway. Not only that, he was also curious as to how Oikawa knew him.

He did very little to get ready. A brief shower, a pair of jeans, a loose fitting singlet that had a series of decorative, almost childish skull patterns and a loose plaid-patterned button up to throw over it. It was a comfortable style, loose and carefree, but it would make it seem like he had some regard for his appearance.

Oikawa had said he would stop by his apartment so they could go together to save Hanamaki aimlessly wandering the streets of Tokyo. When he pulled his phone from his back pocket to check the time, he cursed under his breath.

He still had an hour or two before Oikawa would come around.

Hanamaki felt incredibly foolish in that moment. Getting ready so early, and for no real reason. It was a stupid thing, right? Pouting a little, Hanamaki laid back and opened up his messages. Oikawa had mocked him almost relentlessly after he had agreed to go to the mixer – although Hanamaki himself had sent similar messages in turn just to spite him. He swiped his fingers down on the screen until he could see the photo Oikawa had sent of Matsukawa. It was blurry, out of focus, and yet it framed him quite well. The more he stared at his face, the more he realised just how much his type the guy was. And it bothered him, a little, a prickling feeling under his skin, like pins and needles.

“We’re just going out for drinks…” Hanamaki told himself as he put his phone down to stare at the ceiling. “Just drinks.”

Hanamaki quickly reminded himself not to drink too much. In the past, he had become…more bold and careless in his actions. He hoped that Oikawa would remain a tad more sober than he would, just in case he said something stupid. Or did something stupid.

Hanamaki rubbed his face, groaning softly under his breath, and then finally sat up, determined to do something for the next couple of hours until it was time to go. He ended up lounging on the sofa, watching some idiotic cooking show and cursing himself for not being a better cook. He was startled by the sound of his phone ringing, so much so that he almost slipped off the couch in surprise in reaching for it.

The call lasted only a few seconds, just the sound of Oikawa chanting his name and saying he would be there shortly. Hanamaki only muttered an ‘ _okay_ ’ before hanging up the phone, and he was sent a text message almost immediately after saying ‘ _so mean Maki-chan!_ ’

Hanamaki did one sweep around his house to close the windows and make sure he had the necessities of going out; wallet, phone, keys. With that, he left his apartment and locked it before going to meet Oikawa on the street. He only had to wait a few minutes, as Oikawa was eagerly jogging up to him while humming happily.

“Why are you so happy?” Hanamaki asked him when he approached, his brows knitting together as he smirked. “You’re just going to be stood up later on tonight.”

“Maki-chan! You’re even meaner in person today.” Oikawa sighed and pouted at Hanamaki. “I’m happy because I finally got Iwa-chan to come out tonight~”

“Iwa-chan?” Hanamaki was confused for a moment before the sly smirk returned to his face. “Oh, that guy at your university you’ve been peeping on?”

“I haven’t been peeping!” Oikawa almost shouted in defence of himself. From the way his cheeks suddenly went a little pink, Hanamaki knew it was a lie, of a sort.

“You’ve been checking him out for ages.” Hanamaki replied as they began to walk in the direction of the station. “Isn’t it a bit stupid to invite the guy you like to a mixer with girls?”

“It’s a step, Maki-chan, a step.” Oikawa mused, smiling to himself a little.

“What if he likes one of the girls and gets pissed at you because she’s paying more attention to you?”

“You’ve no faith at all.”

“I don’t. All the girls at the last mixer paid a lot more attention to you than the rest of us.”

“What about you then? Aren’t you being stupid too, going to check out that guy?”

“Mhm…I guess we’re both stupid then.”

Oikawa cast him a curious look before smirking a little and hooking his arm around Hanamaki’s neck, pulling him close and forcing the light haired boy to sway back and forth as they walked.

“Don’t worry Maki-chan! I’ll be a good wing man and keep most of the girls away from him, so make your move!” Oikawa’s offer was almost whole-hearted, and Hanamaki laughed a little as he slapped Oikawa’s back roughly, causing the handsome brunette to yelp loudly.

At the very least, he might have a chance to talk to Matsukawa. It sometimes annoyed him that Oikawa got a lot of attention from girls – not that he was jealous, it was genuinely rather annoying to listen to them fawn over him in an attempt to date a handsome guy. He smiled a little to himself, content to be a little foolish that night and maybe blame his behaviour on being a lightweight when it came to drinking.

 

* * *

 

The group for the mixer had arranged to meet at the entrance to a park in a commercial area near the infamous Red Light District, where they would venture to find the nicer bars to drink at. Matsukawa arrived there with Iwaizumi, complaining in a joking way about being dragged along. Really, it should be Iwaizumi who was complaining. Matsukawa had agreed on their behalf just to tease Iwaizumi a little.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Iwaizumi muttered under his breath. Matsukawa smiled at him, noting that he had actually made an attempt to dress nicely, although casually. Matsukawa himself had only thrown on a slim fitting shirt and jeans, not putting too much thought into it.

“I can.” Matsukawa sighed with a grin, and Iwaizumi punched his arm, but Matsukawa was quick enough to jump to the side and evade him – only just though.

Yesterday, Matsukawa had met up with Iwaizumi after his shift had ended. Only when he did, he found that the shorter man was being pestered by a classmate, and Iwaizumi doing his best to ignore him as he waited for his friend. When the classmate had introduced himself to Matsukawa, he had been quickly hit with an invitation to attend the mixer he was trying to arrange. He accepted the invitation on a whim, merely wanting to annoy Iwaizumi a little and to tease him about his oh so eager classmate.

“You’re going to pay for all my drinks tonight because of this, you know that, right?” Iwaizumi grinned at him cruelly, and Matsukawa smirked back at him.

“It’s worth it to see you squirm a little.” He replied, and Iwaizumi rolled his eyes a little. “So, what’s the deal with that guy?”

“Hm? Oikawa?”

“Yeah, he was really keen to invite you out yesterday.”

“I don’t know really. He’s not a bad guy, he’s just…totally annoying really.”

“And you willingly hang out with him?”

“I hang out with a lot of annoying people.”

“Ouch. You’re gonna break my heart, _Iwa-chan_.”

“Don’t you start that as well!”

“I think its endearing. He’s so sweet on you.”

“Shut your mouth right now.”

Matsukawa could only snigger as Iwaizumi refused to look at him, the tips of his ears turning pink at Matsukawa’s teasing. Iwaizumi had dabbled in dating guys in the past, although only briefly, and he was naturally rather nervous about dating girls. A sudden thought occurred to him as he saw a small gathering of girls in the spot they had arranged to meet at, the girls for the mixer. They all seemed rather eager for the night.

“Do you know the other guy that’s coming with your friend tonight?” Matsukawa asked him, raising a brow at his shorter friend.

“Hm? Oh. Not sure really, I just know that he’s a friend of Oikawa’s. I’ve never met him though.” Iwaizumi answered seriously, and Matsukawa could feel another smirk tugging at his lips as he looked back at the group of girls.

“Well, let’s hope your future boyfriend keeps good company-ow!”

Matsukawa hadn’t been able to avoid the blow that struck him in the side that time, and he winced as Iwaizumi muttered that he deserved it as they got closer to the group. One of the girls seemed to recognise Iwaizumi, and a brief series of introductions occurred. The girls were all cute in their own way; slender bodies, long legs, cute faces. They were all pretty looking girls, and Matsukawa was sure that on some level they were nice people. But even so, the thought of maybe dating one of them never crossed his mind, not seriously at least. They shared a light conversation as they waited for the last two members of their party to arrive, so that the number of girls and boys were even.

It was just as Iwaizumi was checking the time on his phone that one of the girls pointed behind them, calling out the name of ‘ _Oikawa_ ’ with more delight than one would think normal.

Matsukawa turned his head to look over his shoulder, and his narrow eyes widened a little at the sight of the person walking beside the handsome student he had met yesterday. The man had his gaze downcast, typing some kind of message on his phone, and Matsukawa could not help but think that the serious look on his face seemed a little strange, considering he had seen him smirking playfully more often than not in the brief times they had met. An annoyed scowl spread across the familiar tattoo artist’s face when his friend, Oikawa, elbowed him roughly for not greeting the girls immediately as they approached.

“Just give me a minute, it’s about work.” Hanamaki’s voice was annoyed, as if he himself wasn’t happy about the text.

“Tell your boss you’re busy!” Oikawa pouted at him, daring to even reach for his phone. Matsukawa felt a strange twisting feeling in his gut when he saw Oikawa cling to Hanamaki as they walked, trying to pry the phone from his grasp while Hanamaki tried to trip the brunette, swearing at him a little.

“Oikawa!” Two of the girls chanted in unison, greeting him happily as they got closer. Oikawa seemed to immediately peel away from Hanamaki, a bright, warm smile coming over his face as he greeted the girls.

“Yo~!” He mused the word, and continued to beam at them as he asked if they had arrived all right. The girls shifted slightly closer, talking happily to him. Matsukawa’s gaze drifted to Iwaizumi, who was glaring at Oikawa a little and grumbling softly.

“Annoying…” He heard him mumble, and Matsukawa smirked at him slyly.

“Totally annoying.” Matsukawa stole the words Iwaizumi had said earlier and earned a dark glare, and he leaned away from his friend slightly just in case another punch was aimed at his gut.

“Who’s your friend, Oikawa?” Matsukawa lifted his gaze at those words, and watched as Hanamaki pushed his phone into his pocket just as Oikawa draped his arm around the other’s shoulders, pulling him close to introduce him to the girls.

“Meet Maki-chan! He’s totally mean though, not cute at all.” Oikawa chimed the words and Hanamaki looked at him, almost blatantly offended.

“O-oi! Do you introduce all your friends this way?” Hanamaki raised his leg to thrust his knee against Oikawa’s backside, but the brunette hopped forward and away from him, moving to take shelter behind the girls.

“What are you talking about, he has no other friends.” Iwaizumi skilfully threw the insult in, and Oikawa gaped at him, truly offended.

“Hey, hey; when did this become a ‘ _pick on Oikawa_ ’ mixer?” Oikawa sighed a little, and proceeded to insist that Iwaizumi apologise to him. He refused, and shortly after all the jesting, it was decided they would get going to find a bar nearby.

As they walked, Matsukawa quickly noticed how the two girls that had originally greeted Oikawa seemed to latch onto him, the other two following and trying to awkwardly bring up a conversation with Iwaizumi, although struggling as the guy in question was glaring daggers at the back of Oikawa’s head. Tilting his head a little, Matsukawa saw Hanamaki pull up his stride to match his own, walking in pace with him as they followed the group.

“Weird that our friends are friends, huh?” Matsukawa spoke first, cocking his head in the direction of Oikawa and Iwaizumi, who were now trading barbs. Hanamaki smirked at him a little.

“Maybe we’re just destined to run into each other all the time.” Hanamaki joked and Matsukawa chuckled a little.

“Lucky you.” He sighed the words, but kept up his smirk as they made their way to the first bar.

It was strange, walking alongside Hanamaki like that. He had missed him the previous day at the tattoo shop when he had returned to arrange an off-site refund, and hadn’t expected to see him again until the following week, if he even bothered to come back to the flower shop. Walking alongside him, neither being obliged by work, felt like seeing a teacher out of school. It’s not that they don’t have their own life, one just doesn’t expect to cross paths with them.

But Matsukawa was glad, in a way, that Hanamaki was there. It made him relax a little, knowing there was someone that shared a similar joking personality he could tease the others with. The girls walking ahead of them often turned to include them in their conversation, asking for their opinion about particular things – a very obvious attempt at trying to fish out some information for their own ends – and they offered either teasing replies or short ones, not entirely interested in the typical idle chatter.

The evening sun was beginning to set as they arrived at the bar and arranged for seating at a large booth that would comfortably sit all eight of them. Matsukawa allowed Hanamaki to take a seat before him after the girls had, opting to take the outer edge seat of the booth. They ordered a round of drinks, all various kinds for the girls and a couple of regular beer pints for the guys.

“Oikawa, don’t let me drink too much, okay?” Hanamaki slouched a little in his seat as he spoke to his friend across the table. Oikawa merely waved at him, the only acknowledgement he gave as he spoke with both Iwaizumi and one of the girls sitting beside him, holding a conversation with them.

“Are you a lightweight or something?” Matsukawa raised a brow at him, smirking mocking. Hanamaki paused, narrowing his gaze at him.

“No…not exactly…” His hesitation made it seem like a lie, and Matsukawa leered at him, leaning a bit closer to whisper to him a little.

“So, you’re a pervert and get a little touchy when you drink then?”

“In your wildest dreams.”

“I’ll find that out myself when I go home later.”

Matsukawa exchanged quips with Hanamaki with ease until Oikawa scolded them for talking among themselves instead of joining the whole fray, to which both of them openly mocked him. Iwaizumi snickered and grinned when they did, enjoying the sight of Oikawa’s wounded pride.

When the first round of drinks arrived, they all began a very corny introduction of themselves, stating their likes and dislikes like in cheesy movies and bad television shows. They raised their glasses in a toast and laughed in good nature as the night began.

 

* * *

 

The night continued long past any of them had anticipated. The table they sat at was filled with empty glasses and half full bowls of snacks that were routinely cleared away by the staff as they continued drinking. The girls were more responsible, making sure to drink water in between drinks, and while Matsukawa and Iwaizumi refrained from drinking too much, Oikawa had fallen short on his promise to keep Hanamaki from drinking too much, ending up just as drunk as his light haired friend.

So much so, in fact, that he did not even try to talk Hanamaki out of challenging Iwaizumi to an arm wrestling contest. The girls cheered them on, laughing and clapping their hands as they arranged themselves and cleared a proper space on the table.

‘ _This is going to be a disaster…_ ’ Matsukawa thought to himself, his lips pursed in a tight smirk. Even so, he wasn’t going to stop it. It was going to be hilarious for him to watch.

Iwaizumi and Hanamaki clasped hands together tightly, each readying themselves. Iwaizumi seemed calmly confident, and Hanamaki – in his drunken state – took it as an insult that he was being taken lightly. Matsukawa found it oddly cute that a guy so red in the face from drinking that his ears were red was pouting childishly at his friend. One of the girls began the countdown, and Matsukawa had to close his mouth more firmly, afraid he might burst out laughing before the match had even began.

As the girl finish her countdown, there was a brief pause as the two tensed up, muscles tightening as they resisted one another’s strength. Matsukawa could already tell that Iwaizumi was playing with him, especially when several seconds went by and the round was still going.

“Hey, hey, Iwaizumi, don’t give him false hope.” Matsukawa teased, and Hanamaki turned his face to look at him.

“Shut up–” Before Hanamaki could finish telling him of, Iwaizumi had almost too easily knocked his hand back and slammed it against the table top. Hanamaki jolted in his seat, standing up and knocking against the table a little as he held his now aching hand to his chest, wincing and cursing.

“B-Bastard! I got distracted, that doesn’t count!” Hanamaki began to insist he hadn’t lost, and the girls started giggling at his drunken childishness.

“Iwa-chan is so strong!” Oikawa mused, leaning his head onto Iwaizumi’s shoulder as he waved a drink around.

“Oikawa, don’t side with him!” Hanamaki slurred as he leaned in, pointing at Iwaizumi who smirked in a cocky fashion and leaned forward to challenge his resolve. “I want a rematch.”

“Hey now, no need to do anything rash.” Matsukawa lifted a hand and grabbed Hanamaki’s shoulder, pulling him back down into his seat and wrapping his arm around his neck, keeping him there. “Iwaizumi is way out of your league, he’ll snap your arm like a twig.”

“You’re gonna side with them too?” Hanamaki looked a little dejected as Matsukawa insisted he stop. Realising he may have hurt the drunkard’s feelings, Matsukawa slipped his arm lower, gently touching the red surface of his hand. He felt Hanamaki’s hand twitch as his fingertips tapped the back of his hand.

“You need your hands to work, yeah? It’d be bad if you got hurt.” Matsukawa said the words with some genuine concern. He didn’t know if Hanamaki had a second job, and it seemed a little unlikely, so being unable to work would definitely be troublesome.

“Oh, Maki-chan, are you are masseur or something?” One of the girls – Matsukawa couldn’t remember her name – sitting by Hanamaki giggled. It felt a little weird that they were using Oikawa’s nickname for Hanamaki.

“No way, I work at the tattoo shop in this area.” Hanamaki replied honestly, not really looking at the girl as he stared at his reddening hand.

“What? Seriously? You’re a tattooist?”

“Mh, yeah. It’s really cool.”

“Do you have any tattoos?”

“A couple, hold on…” Hanamaki paused as he began to strip back the unbuttoned over-shirt he wore, and Matsukawa quickly pulled his arm away as he realised it was still resting over his shoulders. Hanamaki barely seemed noticed however, and he turned a little to reveal the watercolour sleeve tattoo cascading down his arm framed by black lines and twirling patterns to the group. “I’m planning to get another on my wrist, or back maybe.”

“That’s so cool…!” The girls cooed and laughed softly, and Matsukawa leaned back in his seat a little as Hanamaki began to ramble about his work a little.

“I’ve been thinking about getting a tattoo actually, do they hurt?” One of the girls asked coyly and leaned forward, hoping to get Hanamaki’s attention. The light haired brunette didn’t seem to notice the rather obvious attempt to engage him.

“It’s different for everyone, and the pain varies in different places. Spots like the back of your hand, your feet, anywhere there’s not a bit of fat or muscle over the bone hurts like a bitch. And then there’s the blood from the needle work, and the clean-up and care of the tattoo itself…” The girl’s expression shifted from intrigue to almost disgust at the detailed mention of the pain, and furthermore at the idea of blood.

“Okay, I think we’ve talked enough about that…!” Oikawa leaned over the table and clasped his hand over Hanamaki’s mouth, but quickly pulled back and yelped, and everyone looked at him in surprise. “Maki-chan! Don’t bite!”

“You taste terrible, just like your personality~” Matsukawa raised a brow at the sight of Hanamaki smirking slyly and licking his teeth a little.

“Maki-chan is a bully when he drinks…” Oikawa sighed and turned to lean his head into Iwaizumi’s chest, having to bend his neck a little more to do so.

“Oi! Don’t lean on me, Shittykawa!” Iwaizumi spat the words and grabbed Oikawa’s head, pushing him away a little.

“Shittykawa, Shittykawa…~” Hanamaki began to chant, standing up a little and raising his glass as he did so. “Shittykawa, you sure do have good taste, even though you taste bad~”

“Maki-chan, I’ll make you regret your words…!” Oikawa lifted himself off Iwaizumi’s chest, but before he could reach out to grab Hanamaki, the voice of the bar’s owner screeched out from over the island bar.

“Hey! If you’re going to cause a racket, get out!”

“Oops…”

“Good going Assikawa.”

“Now you’re really hurting my feelings, Iwa-chan…”

A few minutes of drunken stumbling later, the group was kindly escorted out by the waiting staff. Matsukawa smiled sheepishly as he watched Hanamaki and Oikawa bicker with one another over whose fault it was when neither of them was standing properly. At the same time, Iwaizumi was doing damage control with the girls, whose fantasies of Oikawa’s charming personality had been ruined by his drunkenness.

One of the girls that had spoken with Hanamaki a lot that night asked if she could help escort him home, and Iwaizumi cast a quick look at Matsukawa before shaking his head, saying it might be troublesome for her. Eventually they all got the message that the boys would take care of their drunken friends, and left reluctantly. Matsukawa was a little relieved though. He didn’t like the idea of Hanamaki being taken home in that state by a girl who might have an ulterior motive.

Matsukawa’s eyes landed on Hanamaki, whose face was just as red as it had been ten minutes ago after his last drink – before he had foolishly challenged Iwaizumi to the arm wrestling competition. He was scowling at Oikawa and threatening to mess up his one redeeming quality – his face, he mentioned several times – while Oikawa did the same.

“What are we going to do with them?” Matsukawa mumbled to Iwaizumi, who had moved to his side after wishing the girls a safe trip home.

“We could just dump them at a hotel near by…” Iwaizumi said bluntly, clearly believing it was the less troubling option, if a little expensive.

“As much as I want to go home, I don’t think I could sleep knowing I left two drunks alone in a love hotel around this place…” Matsukawa replied as candidly, and Iwaizumi sighed as he rubbed his temple.

“Whose place is closer, yours or mine?”

“Mine, but considering how they are, we may as well split them up…or we could have a fight on our hands.”

“You’re going to make me take Oikawa home, aren’t you?”

“Well, when you say it like that…yes.”

Iwaizumi looked up at his taller friend before turning his gaze towards the two drunken idiots who were picking a childish fight with one another in the street. When he turned to look back at Matsukawa, hoping to somehow persuade him to take Oikawa instead, he stopped himself when he saw the other’s expression. Matsukawa was staring at Hanamaki, with a look of intrigue and concern in some ways. Iwaizumi shut his eyes one more time, cursing himself inwardly before huffing and slapping Matsukawa’s back.

“Good luck.” He said and Matsukawa jumped in surprise, not having expected it.

“What?” Matsukawa raised a brow at him.

“Don’t be mean to him, okay?” Iwaizumi smirked at him over his shoulder as he walked over to the two drunks and grabbed Oikawa by the arm. “Hey, Shittykawa, let’s go.”

“What?” Oikawa almost immediately forgot about his fight with Hanamaki as he stumbled, his weight quickly supported by Iwaizumi, whose arm snaked around his waist and pulled him close to keep him from falling face first onto the pavement.

“Hey, where’re you taking my friend…?” Hanamaki paused for several seconds in a daze before Matsukawa rested his hand on his shoulder, pulling him back a little. “Mh?”

“Don’t worry, Iwaizumi’s a good guy. He’ll make sure Oikawa is alright.” Matsukawa said in an attempt to reassure the red faced drunk, and Hanamaki blinked at him before nodding. “Um…Hanamaki–”

“–You can just call me Maki-chan.” Hanamaki interrupted him, smiling at him warmly, his eyes squinting a little and making his cheeks a little rounder as he beamed at him. Matsukawa was silent for a moment, staring at him a little wide eyed.

“Shit…” He mumbled and rubbed the back of his head, gripping his hair a little. Hanamaki tilted his head a little, the smile replaced by a confused expression. ‘ _That was really cute…_ ’

“Mh, Mattsun, your face is a bit red.” Hanamaki mused softly as he leaned towards him, and Matsukawa leaned back in turn, looking at him surprised. Matsukawa froze at the unfamiliar nickname, but smiled a little upon hearing it. It sounded a little silly, but seeing Hanamaki say it with such a pitiful smile on his face… “You’re drunk, aren’t you?”

“What do they say…that’s the pot calling the kettle black?” Matsukawa shook his head a little and put his hand on Hanamaki’s head, ruffling his short hair. “Come on, I live nearby. You can sleep on my couch.”

“M’kay…but can we wait a little?”

“What? Why?”

“I think I’m going to throw up…”

“You’re kidding…right?”

 

* * *

 

Hanamaki blinked a little and made a small murmuring noise, muffled by fabric. He stirred, nuzzling the wide object he rested against. Lifting his head a little, he looked around, and began to feel the sensation of motion, and began to register the feeling of arms around his legs, holding him up. Turning his head a little, he found himself staring at the side of Matsukawa’s head.

Since when did this happen? Not that he was complaining…

“Feeling better now?” Matsukawa asked him, and Hanamaki paused for a bit. He remembered now. He threw up in the alleyway just behind the bar they had been at. He felt lightheaded afterwards. Matsukawa must have carried him since then.

“Yeah. Thanks.” Hanamaki mumbled and rested his chin on his shoulder. “Sorry about that…”

“It’s fine. You’re a funny drunk.” Matsukawa laughed a little, his chest rumbling, and Hanamaki felt it as his arms were wrapped over his neck and hanging over his torso.

There was a comfortable silence between them, neither awkward nor forced, as Matsukawa carried Hanamaki down the quiet side street in the residential area. Hanamaki stared over his shoulder, looking at the street. Matsukawa lived in a nice area. Quiet, almost tranquil. After a few brief twists and turns, Matsukawa began to enter a small apartment complex. Matsukawa briefly told Hanamaki to hold on tight to him, as they would be going up a few flights of stairs. Hanamaki nuzzled his back a little, holding tight as Matsukawa adjusted his grip on his legs. Step after step, Matsukawa carried the tipsy tattoo artist upstairs. There was a brief fumbling moment where the flower shop attendant tried to fish his keys out of pocket while still carrying him. Hanamaki laughed a little, lightly tapping his head against Matsukawa’s and mocking him.

Matsukawa threatened to drop him on his ass, so Hanamaki quieted himself, merely smirking to himself as Matsukawa pulled his keys out and unlocked his apartment door.

It was dark inside, and Matsukawa kicked the door shut behind him and nudged his shoes off before carrying Hanamaki inside. He uttered something softly under his breath as he turned and leaned back, gently lowering Hanamaki onto the couch. He landed with a thud, and Hanamaki sighed softly, sinking into the cushions.

He closed his eyes, listening to the soft sounds of Matsukawa moving around his apartment, going back to the entrance to lock the door and turn on a few lights. Left alone, Hanamaki shifted his head, looking around the apartment. It was neat…in some places. There was a bit of clutter in some places, tossed jackets and magazines, books and such things.

“Oi, sit up a bit.” Matsukawa said as he suddenly leaned over Hanamaki, tugging on his over-shirt. “I can lend you some clothes to sleep in.”

“Are you going to undress me? Naughty Mattsun.” Hanamaki chuckled a little, smirking at him once more as he clicked his tongue at him as a scolding mother would.

“Don’t tempt me.” Matsukawa replied, smirking back in turn as he helped Hanamaki sit up.

“What if I did…?”

“What?”

“What if I tempted you? What would you do?”

A moment of silence followed at Matsukawa stared at Hanamaki. Hanamaki had spoken without thinking, but found himself curious what his answer – if he answered. He wasn’t able to understand the expression Matsukawa had on his face. He knew he was a little drunk – more than a little really – but it wasn’t like he didn’t understand his own words.

“Well…I suppose you’d be feeling a bit sore tomorrow.” Matsukawa wasn’t exactly sure why he gave that kind of answer. Maybe he half-hoped that Hanamaki would be drunk enough not to remember, or perhaps the very opposite. But he felt a sharp pang in his chest when Hanamaki smiled though, cheekily as he had earlier, and sunk into the couch once more to lift his arms over his head and cover his eyes, grinning and laughing despite himself.

“Naughty Mattsun…”


	4. The Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was grossly delayed. Uni and assessments and other things got in the way and I wasn't able to find the time/motivation to work on anything meaningful. But! Here! A chapter for you! Enjoy if you can! Super sorry it took so long :')

The morning came quicker than expected, and with it a nasty headache that left Hanamaki’s head throbbing. He stirred, groaning quietly in the silent lounge room, and he rolled onto his side to curl up and hide away from the warm daylight streaming through partially closed curtains. Though he wanted to, he could not fall asleep again, and threw off the blanket covering his body while an annoyed grunt. He rubbed his eyes as he sat up, looking around the unfamiliar living room with bleary eyes, and the events of last night slowly crept back into his mind.

The mixer, drinking with his friends, and going home with…

His eyes widened somewhat at the thought. The idea hadn’t crossed his mind last night as odd or something to be concerned about – but he had been drunk, more so than he intended, and clearly hadn’t been sober enough to be embarrassed by himself. And yet he remembered the way Matsukawa had tried to look after him in that state, only to be struck with his poor, foolhardy attempts at flirting; vague suggestions that were no doubt slurred and otherwise likely incoherent.

And what troubled him was the fact he couldn’t remember anything after entering the apartment. He wasn’t sure what Matsukawa’s reactions had been to his idiotic mumblings, or whether or not he had simply fallen asleep after the fact. He just barely remembered the feeling of Matsukawa’s hand skimming his arm and stomach and words that were so quiet he couldn’t remember if they had been said at all, or if he had just imagined them. Hanamaki hunched over and rubbed his forehead with the tips of his fingers, cursing himself. His head felt heavy as though full of lead, and the thoughts ricocheting in his brain did nothing to help that fact.

Hanamaki told himself he was going to beat Oikawa within an inch of his life for not keeping his promise.

The sound of a door opening somewhere nearby reminded him that he was still at Matsukawa’s home. For that matter, he didn’t even know if Matsukawa lived alone. He had gone to the mixer last night, so he was relatively certain he didn’t have a partner, though that didn’t rule out a lover…although he didn’t strike Hanamaki as the type to invite someone for sex while having a guest over.

The soft padding noise of approaching footsteps urged Hanamaki to turn his head and look over his shoulder just in time to see Matsukawa enter the living room from what Hanamaki assumed was the hallway leading into either a bedroom or a bathroom area. He couldn’t be too certain, as his hair looked damp and droplets were falling onto the shoulders of the shirt he was still tugging over his chest. As Matsukawa lifted his head, he paused in the doorway, looking at Hanamaki surprised.

“You’re awake…” He said quietly before a small smirk started to form on his lips. “About time.”

Hanamaki narrowed his eyes at him confused, and turned away to look for a clock of some kind. Unable to find out, he patted his pockets in search of his phone only to realise something that should’ve been high on his list of things to notice when waking in someone else’s home. He was wearing different clothes than he had the night before; loose and baggy, just barely staying on his body. Worse still, he was absolutely certain he was no longer wearing underwear.

“Oh, your clothes smelled of puke, so I put them in the wash.” Matsukawa said calmly as he watched Hanamaki silently panicking on his couch. Hanamaki looked at him relieved for a moment, before the quizzical look from earlier returned. “It’s just after noon now. You’ve been out cold since last night.”

“R-Right…” Hanamaki said quietly and reached up to bury his hand in his hair, which unbeknownst to him was almost violently dishevelled. Matsukawa’s smirk continued to widen as Hanamaki remained oblivious to it. “Um, about…last night…”

Matsukawa’s smirk faded just as quickly, and he moved away from the doorway to sit on the small lounge chair adjacent to the couch. Hanamaki’s face was slightly pink and he hesitated, pursing his lips and mulling over his words before saying them.

“What’s wrong?” Matsukawa asked, waiting patiently for Hanamaki to speak. Hanamaki avoided his eyes, clearly embarrassed though he did well enough to keep his face from turning red outright. A few moments of silence passed before Hanamaki sighed and stood up, shaking his head.

“Nah, doesn’t matter I guess.” As he said so, Hanamaki seemed to calm down almost immediately, his expression tired but more or less normal with an effort that Matsukawa was oblivious to. “Can I use your shower?”

“Yeah, sure. Just down the hallway, on the left. Your clothes are drying on the rack, they should be fine now.”

“Thanks. I’ll try not to raise your water bill.”

“If you do, I’ll make you pay for it.”

“Sure, sure.”

As Hanamaki began to leave the lounge, he waved at Matsukawa over his shoulder as he clung to the hem of the pants he was wearing. They were loose enough that, even with the strings tied tight, if he let go for too long he was sure they would drop. He found the bathroom easily enough and locked the door behind him, though for some time he merely stood there staring at the wall in front of him. After a moment, he raised his hands to his face, covering both his eyes and feeling the heat rising on his cheeks warm his hands.

He praised himself for keeping calm long enough to get out of sight. He wasn’t sure what he was most embarrassed about; his drunken ramblings the night before, the fact that Matsukawa had _fully_ undressed him, or the fact he had just very noticeably tried and failed to address the fact he had no idea whether or not something had happened after he had blacked out the night before. Hanamaki clearly remembered his behaviour at the bar; that alone was embarrassing enough. But everything after was either blurred or just bits and pieces of the whole image. Running his hands through his hair roughly, Hanamaki cursed himself and tried to force all thoughts from his mind.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what had happened after all.

 

* * *

 

One shower later, followed by a rushed conversation that was all too much for a slightly hungover Hanamaki, and suddenly the light-headed brunette found himself sitting in a café with Matsukawa. Hanamaki’s looked as though he’d been dragged out of bed, though he may as well have with how quickly Matsukawa had hurried him out the door. It had taken only a few breathes for the slightly taller man to explain they were going to meet Oikawa and Iwaizumi for lunch, but it had taken a little longer for Hanamaki’s brain to catch up to that fact.

It hadn’t taken long for such thoughts to be overridden however. As they sat quietly in the café, in complete silence, Hanamaki could not help but keep his head lowered to the table, hiding his face under his arms. When Matsukawa had asked him if he was alright, Hanamaki had simply brushed it off as still feeling hungover. Matsukawa had accepted as much, but in truth, Hanamaki’s mind was reeling.

‘ _What the hell is this…we’re just sitting here normally, there’s nothing wrong with that but- damnit…damnit why the hell does this feel weird?_ ’ Hanamaki’s knees bounced nervously under the table, and an unpleasant squeeze in his chest made him grind his teeth together.

He tried to focus on something else other than the fact it might look like they were on a date to onlookers. He turned his attention to the café, peeking carefully from under the shelter that was his arms. The café was full of customers and bittersweet smells. The aroma of coffee beans and iced pasties that was all too common in cafés, along with the quiet, cheerful chatter on the occupants dulled only by the occasional clink and clank of cutlery and the chimes that signalled the entrance of a new patron. It was almost tranquil, that type of ambient life occurring so close by.

Although the illusion was shattered when Oikawa and Iwaizumi had entered – rather, when Oikawa had entered and sauntered over to their table faster than would seem normal. When Matsukawa looked at them, he could tell something was wrong, one way or another.

“Maki-chan! Come help me get a drink!” Oikawa’s cheerful tone was strained, as was the smile on his face. Hanamaki glared at him slightly, a few seconds away from groaning and telling him to do it himself before Oikawa had latched onto his arm and forcefully hauled him out of the booth and towards the display counter of pastries. It had taken only a few seconds for the seat in front of Matsukawa to be vacated and as Hanamaki was dragged away, he could faintly hear Hanamaki cursing at his handsome friend. Matsukawa looked at the retreating pair of his shoulder as Iwaizumi slid into the booth to sit opposite him, covering his mouth as he yawned loudly.

“Big night, huh?” Matsukawa mused and a smirk slowly split his lips as he watched Oikawa frantically murmuring to Hanamaki at the counter.

“Don’t start.” Iwaizumi huffed and slouched in the booth, beginning to rub his face. When Matsukawa turned to look at his friend, and noticing the slight redness of his ears, his smirk widened. “I said, _don’t start._ ”

“How was it?” Matsukawa whispered as he leaned forward, leaning his arms against the table as he leered at the sleepy Iwaizumi, who now seemed more agitated than anything else.

“Nothing happened, so wipe that grin off your face already.” Iwaizumi sighed and tried to ignore the way Matsukawa stared at him.

“Something clearly happened.”

“Nothing worth mentioning.”

“So, first base? Second?”

“There were no bases involved! Knock it off already!”

“Third?”

“I’m going to kill you one of these days.”

Matsukawa chuckled deeply as he leaned back into his seat, looking back over his shoulder at the two standing by the counter. Hanamaki had already begun ordering something as Oikawa leaned closer to his side, murmuring into his ear. Judging by the way Hanamaki kept looking back and forth between him and the pastries with annoyed look on his face, he clearly wasn’t impressed with how Oikawa was hanging onto him. Nor was Matsukawa, although not consciously, as his smile began to fade when Oikawa’s arm snaked over Hanamaki’s shoulder and he dipped his head into his chest – though Hanamaki responded by slapping the back of his head several times.

“What’s with that jealous look you’re sporting?” Iwaizumi asked as he began spinning a small menu on the table’s surface.

“There’s no jealous look.” Matsukawa quickly turned around to face Iwaizumi again, but judging by the sly grin that was appearing on his face, Matsukawa’s words didn’t quite align with his expression.

“You kind of look like a kid who just had their favourite toy taken away…” Iwaizumi spoke quietly, and Matsukawa frowned at him, his brows knitting together as the so-called jealous expression he had shifted. “Did you play nice?”

“Shut up.” Matsukawa almost hissed the words as turned his head to look out the window. “He was drunk. I’m not like that.”

“Hm, true enough I suppose.” Iwaizumi followed his gaze out the window, staring at the legion of passer-byer’s on the street, going to and from wherever in their daily lives. Matsukawa certainly wasn’t the type to advance on someone, even in a tipsy state, regardless of consent. Iwaizumi could tell, however, there was a temptation underlying that judging by the way his eyes had followed Hanamaki – and not just then, but the night before as well. “You seem a little disappointed though.”

“I’m not.” Matsukawa huffed and narrowed his eyes out the window. Even he knew his words weren’t entirely truthful. His mind wandered as he stared out the window, his mind going back to the night before.

Hanamaki had been all but sprawled on his couch, and determined to poke fun at him as Matsukawa peeled away his shirt to dress him in something other than his vomit stained clothes. He didn’t trust that Hanamaki would be coordinated enough to do so himself without falling and splitting his head open on the coffee table.

But in the process of his good deed, Hanamaki’s hands had wandered, whether knowingly or not, in an innocent way as he had done so. Matsukawa could remember the way Hanamaki had tapped his shoulders, the feeling of slender fingers squeezing the muscles of his upper arms and the soft laughter that sounded under him as Hanamaki mumbled something incoherently under his breath. A hand had wandered into his hair, playing with the curling locks as Matsukawa did what he could to keep Hanamaki upright enough to put him in a clean shirt.

But entrenched in his memory above all else was the soft, almost wistful sighing noise that Hanamaki released whenever the briefest part of Matsukawa’s fingers touched his skin. The gentle murmur of _naughty Mattsun_ every other second that was whittling away his restraint.

And it brought a realisation upon Matsukawa in that moment, that he wanted nothing more than to see what Hanamaki looked like writhing under him, to feel his hands roaming elsewhere with meaningful intent. He had brushed off that desire as having been a little drunk himself. But half a night of sleep had done little to calm him down. It had only given his mind time to fill his head with increasingly inappropriate dreams.

“Hey, get that disgusting smile off your face.” Iwaizumi’s voice brought Matsukawa’s gaze away from the window and his mind back into the present. Matsukawa rubbed his mouth a little, as if trying to physically remove whatever look he had on his face. Iwaizumi stared at him for several moments in silence, a brow raised curiously, and Matsukawa returned a similar look after a while.

“What?” He asked sharply, his brow furrowing again as he expected Iwaizumi to retort with some kind of blunt, witty remark.

But when Hanamaki all but threw himself down beside him, beginning to take items off a tray and distribute them around the table, Matsukawa’s gaze shifted to the side to watch him. Hanamaki was apologising for taking so long, and while he had ordered a number of breakfast items for everyone, there was an alarming number of creampuffs piled onto a separate plate he was keeping to himself, almost guarding as it was kept tucked between his arms. When Oikawa tried to reach over and grab one, Hanamaki had openly slapped his hand away, glaring at the now pouting Oikawa, and Matsukawa couldn’t help but laugh. He looked away quickly enough that Hanamaki could see him covering his mouth, trying not to laugh at the incident.

“Oi, stop laughing!” Hanamaki cried and elbowed him roughly, his face turning pink, though it faded as he once again tried to protect the creampuffs on his plate from Oikawa.

And while Matsukawa apologised quietly, his smile continued to grow as Hanamaki began childishly arguing over the creampuffs with Oikawa. At the same time, Iwaizumi stared at him with the same intrigued expression as before, and however tempted he was to call him out on it, he didn’t. Instead, Iwaizumi lowered his gaze while shaking his head, a bemused twist to the smile appearing on his face as Matsukawa continued to watch Hanamaki argue with Oikawa.

“You’re hopeless.” Iwaizumi muttered with a gentle laugh and leaned back, content to watch the fools in front of him.


	5. Plans in the Making

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet another late update, buut there you have it. I'm hoping to integrate Oikawa and Iwaizumi into the story a little more at various stages, so that's a thing. Enjoy and have a good evening! c:

When Hanamaki had gotten home that afternoon, all he wanted was to collapse on his couch and fall asleep. The morning had been more than a little busy, with Oikawa being his usual loud and annoying self, although he had been surprisingly awkward here and there, a sight not often seen. That alone would have been enough to wear him out, but include a thrumming hangover and his embarrassment over what had happened the night before with Matsukawa...

He was utterly exhausted, and there were several more hours until the day was well and truly over and he could sleep it off. He was thankful he didn’t have to work tomorrow, and would be able to rest properly before going back to work.

He had no such opportunity however.

Hanamaki had been lying awake for perhaps twenty minutes, just about to doze off, when the annoying tune of his doorbell started to echo through his small apartment, and he groaned as he buried his face into his mattress, praying that the person would go away. The tune continued to ring out annoyingly, and Hanamaki all but threw himself off his bed as he stomped out of his room and down the short hallway that led to the entrance, glaring through the small peephole at whatever rude person was intruding on his afternoon.

Through the warped glass of the peephole, Hanamaki spied Oikawa leaning against the door with a childish pout on his face, one of his hand constantly pressing against the doorbell as the other clung to the strap of what looked to be an overnight bag.

Hanamaki knew he was going to regret opening the door, but it didn’t seem like Oikawa had any intention of going away.

Growling under his breath, Hanamaki unlocked his door and yanked it open wide, startling Oikawa who jumped back at surprise, and hunched his shoulders as he saw Hanamaki’s disapproving scowl.

“This had better be important, Assikawa.” Hanamaki remembered the unkind nicknames Iwaizumi had used to refer to Oikawa the night before, and Oikawa pouted at him even more as he repeated them.

“Makki-chan, you’re so mean. I even got you creampuffs…” Oikawa mumbled as he began to step inside, not caring if Hanamaki was more than willing to push him out. Hanamaki heaved a heavy sigh when Oikawa leaned his head on his shoulder, mumbling that he really needed to talk to him. Stepping aside enough to let Oikawa inside and close the door, Hanamaki grabbed at Oikawa’s bag as he told him to take his shoes off before coming further inside.

Hanamaki riffled through the bag despite Oikawa’s half-hearted protests at the door. Just as he said, there was a small box stuffed inside, resting on top of a change of clothes and a toiletries bag. He really did intend to stay over, it seemed. He wouldn’t have minded so much if Oikawa had texted him first, but it wasn’t the first time he had been in such a situation. Hanamaki lifted the small cardboard box out of his bag before dropping it beside his couch and sitting down with the box in his lap. Oikawa had followed him in and sat beside him quietly, and when Hanamaki looked at him sideways, he could see Oikawa nervously biting his lip, clearly wanting to say something.

Hanamaki decided not to rush him. He’d come over in an obvious rush, still wearing the clothes that stunk of beer and sweat from yesterday. He wondered if anyone had given him a weird look on the train for reeking of alcohol so early in the afternoon.

There was a long moment of silence as Oikawa pondered what to say and Hanamaki waited patiently for him to talk, busying himself with nibbling at one of the creampuffs from the box. Oikawa sat on the couch, fiddling with his fingers and mulling over his own thoughts as if it were some kind of soul crushing news. Hanamaki knew it wasn’t so – if it had been serious, Oikawa wouldn’t fuss so much over it. Whatever it was, it was clearly embarrassing, as Hanamaki noted the way his face was slowly turning red.

“I think I said something weird to Iwaizumi last night…” Oikawa blurted the words out and Hanamaki inhaled his food in shock, choking as it nearly went down the wrong windpipe and left a burning feeling at the back of his throat.

“You’re all torn up over _that_?” Hanamaki asked indignantly with a scowl, and Oikawa pouted at him once more.

“Shut up, I’m serious.” Oikawa whinged and Hanamaki groaned quietly in response.

“Explain.” He merely ordered, and Oikawa looked away. Even the tips of his ears were turning red now.

It took him a while, but eventually Oikawa told him what had been on his mind – or rather, what he could remember of it. Hanamaki himself didn’t remember much after they had separated that evening, but knew that Iwaizumi had taken Oikawa back to his place to sleep for the evening given his state at the time.

Oikawa hadn’t remembered anything of what happened during then and the time he had woken up that morning. Iwaizumi had told him that he simply dumped him on the couch to sleep after making sure he wouldn’t throw up in his sleep and choke to death on his own sick, and that had been all that had been to it. Hanamaki thought it was reasonable, until Oikawa mentioned that Iwaizumi hadn’t been looking at him, or even really talking to him as he had before. Oikawa thought he might simply be tired from the night before, but seeing as he didn’t remember the night before…

It led him to believe one of two things; either he had done something in his drunken state to put Iwaizumi off – highly unlikely as Iwaizumi would sooner slap him silly than put up him anything like that – or he had said something that bothered him. That wasn’t so unlikely, as he had a bit of a mouth on him when he drank, and worse still he could say some hurtful things, even if meant only as a joke.

Hanamaki was about ready to laugh at him about how foolish he sounded, until he saw the distress in his eyes. It clearly bothered him, that Iwaizumi had treated him differently earlier, and even he wasn’t so heartless as to laugh at a lovesick guy like him.

Hanamaki wanted to comfort him in some way, but he was hardly the kind of guy who could offer any sort of proper advice, especially when it came to romance in some way, shape or form. He didn’t even know what he was going to do about the situation he was in with Matsukawa…what the hell could he possibly say that’d make Oikawa feel better?

“Chin up.” Hanamaki said as he reached back onto the coffee table for the box of creampuffs, offering it to Oikawa, who looked at him with a confused, and very red, face. “If he hated you, he’d say so, right?”

“Yeah…” Oikawa mumbled as he picked one of the creampuffs out of the box and held it in his hands, pouting down at him.

“Has he said he hates you?” Hanamaki couldn’t think of anything else to say. It was like he was drawing blanks out of a lucky dip.

“No. Well, not yet.” Oikawa looked at him doubtfully, and Hanamaki reached over to flick the side of his ear, an act that made Oikawa wince and curl up to protect his head.

“You’ve got two options then. Ask him what happened, or let it eat you up.” Hanamaki said as he leaned back against the couch, giving Oikawa as serious a look as he could muster. “And if he hates you, well, he’s missing out.”

“Makki-chan…” Oikawa started to look at him, all teary eyed with a dopey smile. “Why can’t you always be this nice?”

“Because you’re annoying.” Hanamaki replied bluntly and nudged Oikawa’s knee with his foot roughly.

“Oi! Stop it, you were being nice, don’t ruin it!”

“Shut up, you’re so annoying.”

“Makki-chan!”

 

* * *

 

 Oikawa had left the next morning before Hanamaki had even hauled himself out of bed. He had been reasonable enough to leave him a note on the bench in his kitchen to let Hanamaki know he had gone off to university, though he had scratched out a series of some words underneath it. Hanamaki could just vaguely make out the words, reading _thanks for last night_ and smiled to himself a little.

The majority of last night had been spent watching old movies Hanamaki had stashed away and binging on delivered take out. Hanamaki wasn’t so unkind to turn Oikawa away after a little chat, and had laid out a futon for him to sleep on in the living room for the evening. He hadn’t expected to sleep in so late, though it wasn’t as though he had had a great deal of time to rest, despite it having been the weekend.

Hanamaki was halfway through eating leftovers for breakfast when Oikawa called him. Receiving a phone call was pretty rare this early in the morning, and hastily swallowing the mouthful he had, he answered the phone.

“Whatever it is, make it worth my while.”

“ _Ah! Don’t assume I’m going to make you do something right of the bat! Although, I do have a favour to ask…_ ”

“So? What is it?”

“ _I left a few textbooks at home. I don’t want to be scolded for not doing my readings, so if you pick them up I’ll definitely treat you next time we go out!_ ”

“Oh? Then treat me to some fancy steak or something.”

“ _Makki-chan, you’re being mean again._ ”

“I took care of you last night, and now you’re asking me to pick up your slack? Which one of us is the mean one?”

“ _Alright, I get it! Please go get my books though! You can bully me later._ ”

“Cool your jets, I’ll go get them. Let the landlady know I need to get into your room though, okay?”

“ _I’ll call her now, thanks Makki-chan._ ”

“Mhm.”

Hanamaki hung up the phone and finished off his meal before going to put some clothes on, as he had crawled out of bed in nothing but his underwear. It certainly wasn’t the first time he’d been called to retrieve something of Oikawa’s, it was a routine he was fairly used to. He never really expected Oikawa to pay him back – he was happy to help his friend after all – but it was always fun to tease him.

It would take him about forty minutes to get to Oikawa’s apartment from his house, and about half that time to get to Oikawa’s university from there. In the end he had to run to the station to catch the next train heading in that direction, and just barely managed to jump through the closing doors.

The trip went relatively quickly, and Hanamaki was greeted at the front desk of Oikawa’s apartment complex by the landlady, who happily handed him a spare key that he’d return as he left.

Oikawa’s apartment was no larger than his, and quite immaculate despite him being a busy university student. It made him annoyed a little, that Oikawa was busier than he was and yet his apartment was much cleaner than his. As he was used to doing this, he knew where Oikawa kept his textbooks. The bookshelf in the corner of the living room was full of odds and ends; movies and music, games, novels and comics, and an entire shelf dedicated to his textbooks and reference folders. Oikawa’s schedule never changed, and Hanamaki knew which ones he would need for a Monday afternoon.

And, as always when Hanamaki visited, he took the liberty of rearranging certain parts of his shelf. It was a little childish and innocent payback he got for going out of his way to do this for Oikawa. He left quickly thereafter, and handed the spare key back to the landlady on his way out.

Oikawa’s university was within walking distance of the apartment, and the path there was generally quiet. Hanamaki quickly sent him a text message asking where on campus he was so he could drop his books off. Oikawa quickly replied that he was in a lecture and to wait for him at the usual spot – which meant the large courtyard in the back of the university, an area tucked between buildings and well shaded because of it. Oikawa sent him another text he wouldn’t be very long, as the class ended on the hour, and Hanamaki told him not to worry in turn. His lectures were important, after all.

Hanamaki made his way there, walking past various groups of students navigating the campus, and threw himself down on the same bench he always did while he waited for Oikawa. The weather was agreeable for once, but it was still rather warm, and Hanamaki could feel himself begin to sweat, the heat of the sun warming his skin pleasantly so.

Leaning his head back, Hanamaki began to happily hum a tune, crossing one of his legs to rest his ankle on his knee, tapping his foot in the area as he hummed softly. He never really minded doing this for Oikawa when he had the time – is was a good way to just take a few moments to relax.

“Hanamaki?” The voice caught him off guard, and shifting his head to look up slightly, Hanamaki found himself staring up at a confused Matsukawa.

If he had been relaxed before, he wasn’t now. His heart squeezed in his chest against his will, and he scolded himself inwardly for it. He had forgotten that Matsukawa attended the same university as Oikawa. Looking beside him, he noticed that Iwaizumi was also standing there – practically overshadowed by Matsukawa’s height.

“Morning you two.” Hanamaki tried to greet them casually, offering a lackadaisical grin as he gazed up at them.

“Ah, morning.” Matsukawa replied as naturally as he could while masking his confusion. It must have been odd, seeing him there. But in that moment, something occurred to Hanamaki; he’d visited the university quite a few times to drop things off to Oikawa or meet up with him after classes – it was strange he had never seen Matsukawa before then, even before the two of them after met the other week.

“You’re not a student here, right? What are you doing?” Iwaizumi was quick to question his reason for being there, and Hanamaki pointed to the textbooks he had sat by his side.

“Oikawa left those at home, he asked that I bring them in for him.” Hanamaki’s explanation was fluid and he could hear Iwaizumi scoff loudly.

“What an idiot.” Iwaizumi shook his head and gave Hanamaki a sympathetic look. “Make sure you give him grief for forgetting something like that.”

“I’ll save that for a rainy day.” Hanamaki said as he looked between them at the path behind them. He could just vaguely see Oikawa exiting from the building one of his lectures was held in. The duo in front of him look behind them to see Oikawa approaching slowly, a strained look on his face.

“Say thy devil’s name and he shalt appear.” Matsukawa mumbled and Hanamaki chuckled softly under his breath, quickly lifting up a hand to silence himself.

Oikawa greeted them all as he approached, but was quick to ask why Matsukawa and Iwaizumi were there, as they generally didn’t have class on at that time. Hanamaki listened as Iwaizumi explained they were helping with a group project and were about to drop off their part of the work when they saw Hanamaki lazing about on campus. Hanamaki looked between Oikawa and Iwaizumi carefully – on the surface, it didn’t seem as if there was anything strange about the way they interacted, but there were small differences – Oikawa was avoiding his gaze, although subtly, using the old trick of looking between someone’s brows instead of in their eyes. If Iwaizumi noticed, he didn’t say anything about it.

Not only that, but they spoke curtly, to the point with little chatter in between. By the way Matsukawa was looking at them, Hanamaki figured he assumed the same things he had. There was a tension between them obviously, but neither Hanamaki nor Matsukawa understood the reason why.

“Anyway, Makki-chan, thanks for coming by on your day off.” Oikawa looked away from Iwaizumi and offered him a warm grin, and Hanamaki handed him his textbooks from the bench.

“Don’t worry about it, just make sure you actually do your readings.” Hanamaki reminded him, only to be pouted out in turn.

“Of course I will, I wouldn’t have asked you to bring these otherwise…!” He groaned and rolled his eyes at Hanamaki. “Anyway, um. Thanks for yesterday. I’ll treat you to something special for everything.”

“Oh really? I’m looking forward to it.” Hanamaki grinned at him mischievously. “I have two witnesses to that, so you can’t back out of anything I ask of you later.”

“Makki-chan…!” Oikawa huffed the nickname before turning on his heel and walking away from the group, quickly saying goodbye to the others as he dashed off before Hanamaki could tease him more.

“Did something happen yesterday?” Iwaizumi gave him a curious look as Hanamaki himself stood to leave when Oikawa had disappeared around the corner of a building. Hanamaki looked at Iwaizumi questioningly, but quickly smirked at him. Maybe he should tease him as well, as pay back for putting Oikawa in such a state yesterday.

“You know, jealously is an ugly thing, _Iwa-chan_.” Hanamaki jested, and Iwaizumi’s curious expression quickly contorted into a sharp glare.

“Excuse you?” He all but snapped the words, and Hanamaki darted to the side and hid behind Matsukawa, pressing his hands to the broad shoulders as he pushed him forward slightly, creating a blockade between him and Iwaizumi.

“Protect my honour, Mattsun!” Hanamaki ordered, grinning as he peeked at the shorter man from over Matsukawa’s shoulder. Matsukawa laughed as he held up his hands, as if ready to counter some kind of attack that was unlikely to come.

Iwaizumi merely sighed and told Matsukawa not to take too long as he walked around them – with Hanamaki turning Matsukawa at the same time to maintain the barrier – until he had disappeared into a building. Hanamaki pouted a little as he stepped back from Matsukawa, muttering how boring it had been that he hadn’t tried to play along. Matsukawa explained he’d been a little stressed that morning, but Hanamaki continued to pout childishly, light-heartedly arguing it would have been funny to see him joke a little.

“Ah, just quickly,” Matsukawa halted their conversation as he remembered something, and pointed in the direction Oikawa had wandered off in. “Nothing bad happened yesterday, right?”

“Hm? Oh, no, nothing like that.” Hanamaki reached up to rub the back of his neck, scratching it a little nervously as he wondered whether or not to explain properly. It wasn’t like Matsukawa would misunderstand or anything…well, was there anything to be misunderstood about it? Either way, he didn’t really want that. “He’s just a little anxious at the moment I guess, so he just came to hang out and relax yesterday.”

“Really?” Matsukawa gave him a slightly concerned look and sighed a little, biting the corner of his lip. “I’ll talk to Iwaizumi about it, seriously. I feel kind of bad since I sent Oikawa off with him and now…”

“Hey, hey, not your fault.” Hanamaki tried to offer a reassuring smile and instinctively raised his hands to pat Matsukawa’s cheeks. It was something he sometimes did to Oikawa when he was feeling blue. He quickly recoiled his hands, blushing faintly as he did so. That wasn’t something he should do to Matsukawa, no matter the situation. Matsukawa gave him a confused look but said nothing as Hanamaki continued to smile at him.

“I suppose.” Matsukawa averted his gaze for a moment before quickly looking back at him. “Hey, are you working tomorrow?”

“Uh, yeah, basic nine to five for the next few days. Why? Something up?” Hanamaki raised a thin brow at him.

“Nah, nothing. You still have to come by the shop, remember?”

“What? Oh, right. The bouquet.”

“That’s right. So, you’d be off around Thursday, yeah?”

“I should be, unless I get called in for a half day or something. Even so, I could still come around, but don’t you have classes?”

“I have most of my classes at the start of the week. Oh hey, hand me your phone for a moment too.”

“You’re awfully demanding today, Mattsun…”

Even though he complained, he still handed Matsukawa his phone. Just as he was about to ask why, he saw Matsukawa take his own phone out of his pocket, and open up the contacts apps on both devices.

“Oh? You know, you could’ve asked for my number sooner.” Hanamaki grinned at him a little and chuckled as Matsukawa handed him back his phone.

“I like to play hard to get.” Matsukawa fixed with him a sly smirk, and Hanamaki felt his face warm up a little. He hoped it wouldn’t show too much.

“That so?” Hanamaki mused the words softly, trying to uphold his grin as Matsukawa leered at him.

Matsukawa phone beeped in his hand quickly after though, and he sighed as he explained that Iwaizumi was getting impatient with him. Hanamaki briefly told him to text him later about dropping by the flower shop before waving Matsukawa off to finish his studies, managing to apologise for holding him up in the process. Matsukawa happily waved goodbye to him as he followed the path Iwaizumi had stomped off in, and Hanamaki returned the gesture before making his way off campus.

As he left the university grounds, Hanamaki opened up his phone to check his contacts list, seeing Matsukawa’s name listed familiarly as _Mattsun_ , and he smiled to himself as he opened the contact to check the information.

‘ _Matsukawa Issei…Issei, huh?_ ’ He thought to himself as he made his way to the train station nearby, unable to stop himself from smiling as he read Matsukawa’s contact information. ‘ _Geez…what am I doing…?_ ’


	6. Unexpected Delays

Half a week later, feeling restless and tired, Hanamaki left the tattoo parlour for the flower shop he was slowly becoming fond of. He could not help but smile to himself as he walked the streets, weaving through people as he reread a short series of texts on his phone. He and Matsukawa had messaged one another over the last few days about what day and at what time it would be best for Hanamaki to arrive given their individual schedules, but they had finally settled upon a date. Matsukawa had told him that he was excited to arrange something nice for him after Hanamaki had been embarrassed in his workplace, and embarrassed by such a simple, innocent gift, Hanamaki teased him in reply.

Matsukawa had taken in it good stride, or it seemed that way. Texting always made Hanamaki nervous, as it lacked the kind of emotion that can only be conveyed through voices and gestures. Oikawa made it easier on him using emoticons and often purposely using bad grammar, but Hanamaki knew he was in a bad mood when his texts were short and blunt, or were otherwise lifeless in some manner. He hadn’t yet figured out what to make of Matsukawa’s messages, but for the time being, he was content to live in bliss.

He arrived at the flower shop shortly after noon, having only worked a half day in the morning. The outside of the shop was crowded with potted plants and wrapped bouquets neatly arranged on wooden stalls, the paint of which was cracked and weathered. Before entering, he looked down at himself, clad only in a pair of ripped white jeans and a tight patterned tank top, and cursed himself for not putting more effort into his appearance. He had already sent Matsukawa a message saying he was on his way, so he didn’t have the luxury of racing home and putting on something more...even he wasn’t entirely certain. It wasn’t as though he were obliged to impress him. And yet there it was, the desire to. He cursed himself for it.

Bracing himself, Hanamaki inhaled sharply through his nose and nodded to himself before entering the shop, the soft echo of a bell ringing above his head signalling his arrival. He moved cautiously towards the front of the shop, his eyes travelling to the neatly aligned racks of flowers. A display of cascading flowers wrapping around a wall rack caught his attention, the thick white and violet buds and petals all but hiding the green stems beneath. Hanamaki thought they might look pretty dangling from a balcony or an archway. A tag almost buried under the climbing flowers read ‘ _wisteria floribunda_ ’, words that meant very little in the back of his mind, but he thought they were pretty nonetheless.

“See something you like?” Matsukawa’s deep voice was all too close to his ear, and Hanamaki leapt forward in response, startled by the sudden presence behind him. He would have collided with the wall display if Matsukawa hadn’t been quick to grab his shoulders and pull him back and away from it. Hanamaki wasn’t sure what he was more concerned about in that moment; almost destroying a flower display, or the warmth of Matsukawa’s chest as they stood barely an inch apart.

“You ass!” Hanamaki huffed and turned around, pouting at him as he raised a hand and slapped Matsukawa’s shoulder lightly. Matsukawa simply smirked at him and raised a hand to cover his mouth, as if that alone would stifle the sound of his endless snickering.

“Sorry, you looked cute spacing out over here.” Matsukawa spoke from behind the hand half-heartedly hiding his smirk. His eyes had a warm yet cunning glint to them, and Hanamaki felt his heart stop for a moment when Matsukawa said he looked _cute_ of all things. “That couldn’t go unpunished.”

“You’re such a bully, Mattsun…” Hanamaki crossed his arms defensively over his chest. He was beginning to get nervous under Matsukawa’s playful gaze. He hated the fact it unnerved him so, that Matsukawa made him anxious. They were only talking, and yet he felt like all his nerves were standing on end. Hanamaki hoped he wouldn’t be able to notice how tense he was becoming. “I hope you don’t treat all your customers this way.”

“No, just you. You’re special like that.” Matsukawa’s words had not one bit of snark in them as he smiled at Hanamaki warmly. Hanamaki could all but feel his heart leaping into his throat and lodging there. “C’mon, my co-worker is about to take over floor duty, follow me.”

Hanamaki was thankful Matsukawa turned around when he did. It gave him a moment to drop his poker face and collect himself again. Matsukawa led him to the back of the shop to another area full of flower and seedling stock, and as they did so, Matsukawa’s aforementioned co-worker greeted them before going to look after the front of the store. Hanamaki briefly questioned if it was alright for him to be at the back of the store, but Matsukawa reassured him it was just a storage room that had been renovated as an extension to the front area.

They spent quite a while in the back of the store. Matsukawa showed him an array of flowers and seedlings for potted plants, suggesting that maybe Hanamaki should try his hand at taking care of a fern of a sort – despite Hanamaki’s repeated protests that it would die even if he did his best to look after it. Matsukawa jested that in such an event, he’d simply have to visit Hanamaki from time to time to make sure the poor thing wasn’t suffering under him. Hanamaki was caught between wanting to hit him again and forcing the thought of Matsukawa coming over to his shabby apartment out of his mind. To make matters worse, Matsukawa stood directly beside him – even though he had gone out of his way to get Hanamaki a seat and could just as easily stood opposite him – and leaned close to him as he pointed to loose flowers he arranged into impromptu bouquets. Hanamaki was at times distracted by the feeling of his hand resting on his shoulder as Matsukawa reached across the table, and by the brief sensation of his warm breath by his ear when he spoke.

Matsukawa had picked out a number of flower arrangements, all of them gorgeous and giving off a sweet, earthy scent that Hanamaki thought wonderful, but nothing seemed to jump out at him. Nothing caught his attention in such a way that made him think ‘ _that’s the one, that’s perfect_ ’ and he hoped Matsukawa wasn’t becoming frustrated with him, often sneaking cautious glances at him to gauge his reactions. It didn’t seem so, but Hanamaki worried nonetheless.

“I never imagined you’d be so picky, _Makki-chan_.” Matsukawa sighed the words with a teasing grin, and Hanamaki bit down on his lower lip, feeling annoyed with himself.

“I don’t mean to be. I just…I don’t think any of these suit me or anything.” Hanamaki murmured as he hunched his shoulders, sinking into himself, as if to hide away from him. He felt like an asshole, coming all this way just to shoot down the bouquet ideas Matsukawa had taken the time to arrange. But he’d feel even worse if he lied to him just for the sake of it. In an attempt to divert Matsukawa’s attention, Hanamaki directed his gaze at the flowers that lay before him and reached for one, fiddling with the stem and blurting out the first thing that came to mind. “Don’t, uh…isn’t it true that flowers have like…special meanings or something?”

“You mean the language of flowers? It’s true, but the meanings can vary depending on what source you look at. A lot of people have thought of different interpretations, though there are common trends sometimes.” Matsukawa explained it effortlessly, as if he were some kind of expert. He wondered briefly if maybe he had to learn such a thing to work in the store. Hanamaki didn’t think he would get an actual response, and it left him at a loss, and in his silence, he watched as Matsukawa’s expression shifted into one of surprise, as if having thought of some incredible idea. His expression shifted again when he looked at Hanamaki, a look of excitement and anticipation capturing his face.

“What’s with that face?” Hanamaki asked warily. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer.

“Instead of just picking out some flowers for the sake of it, how about I make you a bouquet with some actual meaning to it? Sounds fun, yeah?” Hanamaki could tell Matsukawa was elated by the idea. His voice, however deep, was soft and gentle and overflowing with glee.

“Why do I get the feeling you’d find some way to call me something mean without me realising?” Hanamaki mumbled the words under his breath, and Matsukawa feigned a hurtful look as he held a hand to his chest.

“It hurts that you trust me so little.” Matsukawa cried indignantly, but laughed when Hanamaki rolled his eyes and looked away from him. With a much more genuine smile on his face, Matsukawa touched his arm to draw his gaze back to him. “But seriously for a moment. If I made you a bouquet with meaning, you’d accept it no matter what, right?”

Hanamaki was silent for a long moment as he stared up at Matsukawa in some disbelief at his words. They were sincere and kind, and above all else, those words filled him with a hope he did not think wise to consider properly. Matsukawa was nice to him, almost unbearably so. He didn’t think he had the right to think any more of it.

And yet, with such a soft and tender smile being directed at him, with half lidded and almost affectionate eyes staring a hole through him, he felt as if he were being swallowed whole by his sheer presence.

“You’re being sly.” Hanamaki muttered as he tore his gaze away and lowered his head. He didn’t dare look at Matsukawa. He was absolutely certain his face had turned bright red.

“Hanamaki?” Hanamaki couldn’t see him, having dropped his head and covered it with his arm to stop Matsukawa seeing whatever lovesick expression he had on his face, but he could hear a hint of concern and confusion in his voice.

“You’re playing dirty, being all suave and shit. Don’t use such cheesy lines on guys.” Hanamaki murmured and kept his head low. He had to calm down. He had to. Matsukawa would start thinking he was some kind of creep. He couldn’t stop muttering to himself, he felt like he would cave in on himself if he did. “I’ll accept it, so shut up already.”

Matsukawa wasn’t quite sure how to reply. Seeing Hanamaki shrinking away because of a few simple words, so embarrassed that the tips of his ears and the back of his exposed neck were turning red…his smile was growing wider by the second, knowing he had such an effect on him, and yet he wasn’t quite sure what to do with that information just yet. All he knew for certain was that Hanamaki was acting undeniably cute, and yet he had the gall to say he was playing dirty and being unfair.

“I’ll do my best then.” Matsukawa hummed the words, his smile becoming tight and almost smug at being able to embarrass Hanamaki so much.

And once more, he caught his thoughts wandering to what ifs and maybes…he just didn’t know what to do with the guy, or himself for that matter.

 

* * *

 

Hanamaki had left the flower shop earlier than he had intended to, using the excuse of needing to run errands – which he later found he should actually attend to while he had the chance. He was certain if he spent much more time around Matsukawa, he would do something foolish or blurt out something weird. He had a feeling Matsukawa thought of him as an idiot after acting unlike his usual laid back self. He never said as much, but Hanamaki couldn’t get rid of the feeling. He felt utterly embarrassed, and as he went about his business for the evening, all he could think of was that tender smile Matsukawa had shown him mere hours ago.

The afternoon was coming to an end when Hanamaki finished his errands, having made a few rounds to stores to buy new clothes and drawing materials to occupy his free time. Oikawa had been texting him furiously throughout the day, though Hanamaki had only begun to respond after leaving the flower shop. His flashy friend was more conflicted than ever about the way Iwaizumi was continuing to disregard and at times outright ignore and avoid him, only talking to him absolutely necessary, at least according to Oikawa. Hanamaki knew he was troubled, but at the same time, it made him smile that Oikawa was so wrapped up in a guy that he, a grandiose and incorruptible flirt, was so worried about what Iwaizumi thought of him.

Hanamaki could only offer simple words of encouragement and reassurance in reply. He didn’t have any practical advice that would help him resolve the situation – well, none that didn’t involve Oikawa tackling Iwaizumi until he confessed what was on his mind. Oikawa thanked him for putting up with his constant stream of texts, and Hanamaki didn’t have it in him to bully him at that stage, not when he was so hapless and vulnerable.

Hanamaki promised that he would visit him on his next day off to help take his mind off things as he arrived at the train station and made his way to the central ticket areas. He fished around in his wallet for the metro card that would allow him to get past the ticketing barriers and head to his platform. As he did so, he saw a familiar figure in the corner of his eye, and had to look twice in that person’s direction before realising who it was.

Matsukawa.

Hanamaki had thought he had thrown himself through enough hoops that day.

He had thought of running away and merely getting on his train, but the way Matsukawa was glaring at the information board with a frustration scowl on his face made him consider otherwise. Making a small whining noise, annoyed at himself for his own lack of restraint, Hanamaki turned in his direction and crossed the short distance between the ticket gate and the information board, dodging around people as he ventured over.

“Oi, Mattsun.” Hanamaki smirked widely when Matsukawa jumped in surprise at the sound of his voice, much like he had earlier that day, only without the possibility of breaking something in the process. Matsukawa turned around, the hard and annoyed expression on his face almost immediately softening when he saw Hanamaki.

“Well, well, stalking me now, are you? I’m touched.” Matsukawa teased and chuckled, and Hanamaki scoffed as he waved a hand in front of him dismissively.

“Well, someone thinks he’s special.” And for good reason, Hanamaki thought to himself, but there was no way he was going to admit to that. “Having trouble over here? Kind of looks like you’re about to beat the shit out of someone.”

“I feel like it, honestly.” Matsukawa admitted and sighed as he raised a hand to run it through his already dishevelled hair in his frustrated state. “My train line’s been delayed for some emergency repairs. Only god knows when the trains will run again.”

“Shit, you lucked out today, didn’t you?” Hanamaki smiled at him sympathetically, and an idea rooted itself deep in the back of his mind. He knew he was going to curse himself later for it. At that point, he told himself he shouldn’t be surprised about how deep a grave he was digging himself. “Do you want to stay over at my place for the night then?”

“What?” Matsukawa blurted the word out, thinking he may have misheard him. Hanamaki was grateful that his heart and mind were obeying him for once and that he was able to remain calm as Matsukawa stared him down, confusion plastered across his face.

“It’s better than getting stuck out here for god knows how long or wasting money on hotel you’ll catch a disease in.” Hanamaki argued, though he could have been more tactful about it. “You let me crash at your apartment when I was drunk not long ago. ‘Sonly fair I return the favour, you know?”

Hanamaki’s heart was squeezing tightly in his chest. He wanted to duck away at that very moment and bury himself in a hole so deep he’d never see light again. What the hell was he thinking? Inviting Matsukawa over when his feelings were conflicted as they were was just asking for trouble – especially given the fact Hanamaki barely remembered what had happened when the roles had been reserved last time. Even so, he wasn’t so heartless as to leave Matsukawa stranded at the station. Not when he could do something about it.

Eventually, Matsukawa pulled himself out of his stupor and smiled at Hanamaki, a look of relief washing over him as his shoulders sagged and he relaxed, even going so far as to bow his head a little as he thanked Hanamaki for the offer, and accepted, quietly uttering that it would be interesting to see what Hanamaki’s apartment looked like.

They headed towards the ticket booth and Hanamaki led the way to the platform his train would be departing from, the two of them quickening their pace as it would be arriving shortly. If someone had of told him that day Matsukawa would be returning home with him later on, he would have outright laughed.

And yet, soon enough, he was standing on a crowded train with him, close enough that they could feel the warmth of one another’s breath when they talked about perhaps getting take out for dinner to eat, as if they had known each other for years. Hanamaki prayed he would survive the short trip it would take to get to his residential district. His heart thudded painfully in his chest, refusing to calm down, not when Matsukawa was so close to him.

Not when he was just within reach, and yet kept at bay by saner thoughts.


	7. Movie Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been sort of busy recently but I wanted to update this tonight so I can upload more soon, I'm uploading this kind of late for me and I'm sleepy so if there are mistakes I apologise! I quickly want to say thank you to everyone reading this and whatnot, so thank you and have a wonderful day!

The walk between the station and Hanamaki’s apartment wasn’t a great distance, but even so, both he and Matsukawa complained about the time it took to get there, especially with the sun burning bright at their backs as it began to near the horizon. The trip itself took a little longer as they stopped at a convenience store along the way, picking up snacks and drinks to share for the evening after Matsukawa had asked if he had any movies at home and the two debated over what they could watch from what titles Hanamaki could recall off the top of his head. Which, to Matsukawa’s surprise, was quite a few.

When they finally arrived, they lingered outside of the door of Hanamaki’s apartment for several long moments, shifting bags around between them as Hanamaki tried to fish his keys out of his pockets without dropping anything. He eventually pulled them free with a triumphant grin and Matsukawa laughed, teasing him for being proud of something so simple as they entered and kicked their shoes off. Hanamaki responded by roughly nudging his elbow into Matsukawa’s ribcage, but was having trouble keeping the smirk off his face when he noticed the oddly childish toe-socks Matsukawa was wearing.

“Make yourself at home, big guy.” Hanamaki tried and failed to keep himself for sniggering as Matsukawa rubbed his side. They quickly moved into the kitchen just by the entrance area and dumped the bags of snacks on the counters.

“Nice place. You live here by yourself?” Matsukawa asked and looked over the kitchen counters, his eyes scanning the apartment. It was nice, relatively clean which was something he hadn’t expected, though there was a lot of clutter in places and abandoned clothes hanging off chairs. It seemed like a one-bedroom apartment, and the small balcony area outside looked entirely unused, save for a hanging rack to dry clothes on and an ashtray that was tucked in the corner on the ground. He’d never seen Hanamaki smoke though, and wondered if it had ever been used or was there just in case.

“Yeah, although Oikawa comes around and crashes whenever he wants, so it doesn’t feel like it really.” Hanamaki explained, mentioning under his breath that Oikawa was more of a pest than a houseguest, and he put away the things they had bought for later. When Matsukawa made a soft humming noise in reply, Hanamaki glanced at him quickly. “You don’t have to wait there, you can go sit down and watch television or something.”

“I’m good.” Matsukawa said with a smile that made his face look warm, though the hooded look of his eyes made it seem like one of a sheepish nature, and Hanamaki put the last of the shopping away within reach for later.

“It’s fine, go sit down. I’m going to go change anyway.” Hanamaki turned to him and pushed on his shoulder, leading him into the living area and ushering him towards the couch that could comfortable sit three people, and two if they lay down lounging.

Matsukawa waved his hands, saying that he was going, and dropped down onto the small lounge seat and pulled one of the large cushions into his arms to keep his hands occupied. Looking over his shoulder, he watched Hanamaki walk towards what he assumed was his bedroom, stripping back his shirt as he closed the door behind him with foot. Matsukawa just barely caught sight of the tattoos reaching up from his arm to his shoulder blade, and turned his head back around just as the door was closing.

‘ _Don’t start, Issei…_ ’ Matsukawa warned himself and stood up, walking around the small coffee table, stepping over an abandoned pair of shorts, and kneeling in front of the television stand, his eyes scanning the titles of DVD’s for something good to watch while clutching the cushion to his chest. The stacks were entirely unorganised, with music and games cases thrown almost randomly into the mix. Matsukawa was half tempted to organise the damn thing then and there.

The longer he lingered there, the more ridiculous he felt; crouching there in the silence, hearing faint shuffling movements from beyond Hanamaki’s bedroom door. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t stayed at someone’s house overnight before. But he couldn’t shake the tense feeling in his shoulders, like he’d just unwittingly walked into a den of lions. He told himself it was just because he was still getting to know Hanamaki. That kind of…awkwardness would be around for a while. Or so he told himself. He hid the growing pout on his face by pressing the edge of the cushion to his mouth. He wondered if Hanamaki and Oikawa had watched a lot of these movies together into the late hours of the morning and had fallen asleep on that small couch beside one another as he scanned the titles. It was a thought he tried to shake from his mind quickly, not liking the way his stomach began to twist. They were friends. It wasn’t like it was any of his business anyway.

He heard a door opening behind him after a moment, and turned to see Hanamaki appear in a simple pair of sweat pants and a loose sweater with English text on it – Matsukawa wondered if Hanamaki knew the sweater read ‘ _sheep cloud_ ’ and he fought hard to keep from bursting into a fit of laughter. He was carrying some clothes in his hands, and Matsukawa assumed it was his dirty laundry up until he moved to stand at his side to toss them at him.

“Here, you can wear these. Dunno if they’ll fit properly or not.” Hanamaki said as he dumped the clothes in Matsukawa’s lap.

“Aren’t these a little too big for you?” Matsukawa asked with a wide smirk after taking a good look at the dark sweater and tracksuit pants he’d been thrown. They looked to be a few sizes too big for Hanamaki, though they’d fit him just fine, or so he hoped. The legs looked a little short. He wondered if these were actually Hanamaki’s clothes, that maybe they belonged to someone else. It was another thought he removed from his mind. He wasn’t as successful, though he managed to keep the smirk on his face.

“Shut up, they’re good for winter. Besides, you’re wearing toe-socks, you have no right to judge me.” Hanamaki replied sharply and pointed over his shoulder. “You can change in there when you’re ready. I can wash your clothes tonight and have them dry by morning if you want. Ugly ass toe-socks included.”

“Ah, no, it’s fine. I don’t have class tomorrow until the afternoon so I can go back home and change first.” Matsukawa said as he stood up and headed towards the bathroom Hanamaki had gestured to. “And you’re just saying that because you want to steal my socks and have them for yourself.”

“You got me. I want to wear them forever and wiggle my toes every night while I dance in the moonlight.”

“I knew it.”

There was a brief pause in the conversation filled by the sound of light-hearted laughter before the nonsensical joke was dropped, and Matsukawa asked to use his shower. Hanamaki agreed, but warned him to let the water heat up, or he would regret it. Hanamaki smirked at him and called out that he was going to put on something to watch while Matsukawa showered, and Matsukawa made a loud ‘ _mhm_ ’ noise just as he shut the door to the bathroom.

When Matsukawa was out of sight and locked away in the bathroom, Hanamaki turned his attention to the living room, cursing himself for the small mess in places. It wasn’t as if he had known Matsukawa was going to be over, but it bothered him a little. Quickly, he grabbed whatever stray clothes he could find – and blushing faintly when he pulled a pair of comical cupcake-printed boxers out from under the coffee table. It had been a less than tasteful gift from Oikawa, and Hanamaki prayed Matsukawa hadn’t been looking around the apartment enough to notice them. He threw the clothes into a hamper and pushed it into his bedroom where he knew it would be out of sight. He just hoped he remembered he had put it there so he didn’t forget to do his laundry later.

By the time Matsukawa had finished in the bathroom, Hanamaki had tidied up and had thrown on a movie he pulled out of the stacks without looking. Matsukawa threw himself onto the couch beside Hanamaki, dressed in the clothes that fit well enough but clung a little too close to the skin than Hanamaki would have liked them to. The sweats he had given him were too short, on him at least, and stretched over Matsukawa’s calves, leaving the lower half of them exposed. He rubbed a towel against his wet hair, small droplets sliding down the side of his face from the dark tousled locks poking out from under the towel.

“What are we watching?”

“The-…the…shit, what’s the word…”

“ _The Visit._ Your English sucks.”

“You come into my home, you disrespect my piss-poor language skills.”

“It’s alright, you can hold my hand when you get scared.”

“You’re just saying that to hide the fact you want to hold _my_ hand when _you_ get scared.”

“You’re right. Hold me, _Makki-chan_!”

“The movie hasn’t even started!”

It took them a few moments to actually play the movie, ensuring that the subtitles were on so they could understand the foreign film, and Hanamaki left the room quickly to retrieve the snacks he had packed away. Matsukawa had curled up in the corner of the lounge seat when he returned, and Hanamaki nuzzled into the other corner, their legs twisted together in the centre as they passed the snacks between them.

Hanamaki wasn’t disturbed by any of the suspenseful and unsettling scenes that appeared. The same could not be said for Matsukawa, as he jumped in shock whenever there was a jump-scare of a sort. Hanamaki didn’t know if it was out of reflex or simply because he hadn’t seen the film before, so he didn’t know what to expect. Hanamaki snickered quietly when he heard Matsukawa cursing softly, but silenced himself quickly when the other gave him a sharp glare, as if daring him to mock him about it.

“You’re not actually scared, are you?” Hanamaki murmured as the movie continued to play, slouching on the couch and swaying one of his knees to bang against Matsukawa’s lightly, drawing his attention away from the screen.

“Not really, it’s just…creepy.” Matsukawa mumbled the word and he lifted a hand to rub the middle knuckle of his finger against his lips, as if to hide his grimace, and Hanamaki laughed a little more loudly than he wanted to.

“Want me to put on something more tame, you big scaredy cat?” Hanamaki teased with a broad grin and Matsukawa sat forward and reached for him suddenly. Hanamaki fell off the couch with a loud bang trying to evade him when he noticed the attack, though he was laughing enough to ignore the ache building in his hip.

“Come here, you shit…!” Matsukawa chased after him, grabbing onto Hanamaki’s ankle and dragging him back across the floor while his host laughed even more, the sound warm and wholehearted as it shook his chest and filled Matsukawa’s ears, blocking out the dramatic music pouring out of the television speakers.

Hanamaki kicked his leg out gently, not wanting to actually hurt Matsukawa but also not wanting to be caught by him, and held onto the edge of the couch with one hand as he tried to pull his ankle out of the vice like grip his stronger houseguest had. Matsukawa acted without thinking, not entirely sure what to do once he had Hanamaki in his grasp, and leaned back on the couch to drag Hanamaki closer to him, his sweater riding up to bundle at his waist from sliding across the ground. Matsukawa stretched to lean back forward quickly and lunged at him, entirely unclear about the course his hand was taking, and the two locked eyes for a brief moment. Matsukawa could feel Hanamaki’s leg twitch, tensing as he froze, and his mind went blank as Hanamaki looked at him almost expectantly, wondering what he was to do.

Catching his reason before it skirted away to the depths of his mind, Matsukawa lowered his hand with a frightening speed to slap Hanamaki’s stomach. The sound echoed in the living room and the yelp that left his mouth was hardly the sound one would expect from a young adult male. Hanamaki kicked out of Matsukawa’s grip more successfully, rolling onto his side as he cradled his stomach that was already starting to redden.

“Serves you right.” Matsukawa murmured but leaned off the couch again to grab Hanamaki’s shoulder and help him sit up. Hanamaki made a low whimpering noise as he peeled his arms off his stomach and inspected the red hand print plastered across a lean but firm chest. Matsukawa’s eyes travelled to the sturdy squareness of his hips and the pronounced lines of his pelvis peeking out under the hem of his underwear.

He tore his gaze away quickly.

“You’re absolutely horrible. That seriously hurt. Oww…” Hanamaki continued to whine. The more he did it, the more childish the words became until they turned into loud, melodramatic drawls, and Matsukawa laughed gently as he wrapped his arms around Hanamaki’s neck and nuzzled his head.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re not…”

“No, I mean it, I really am. I swear it on my so-called ugly socks.”

“I’m going to throw them out.”

“Will that make you love me again?”

There was a tiny pause, and for a moment – a brief, almost non-existent moment – Matsukawa felt Hanamaki’s shoulders tense slightly. Matsukawa opened his mouth to rephrase his words, but Hanamaki relaxed within a second, so quickly Matsukawa wondered if it had been his imagination, and Hanamaki slouched to lean against his leg, still holding his stomach in his arms.

“You can keep your ugly socks I guess.”

The night pressed on, and when Matsukawa picked the next film, Hanamaki kept his snickers to himself at his choice of an action-comedy. He was sent a very pointed looked that encouraged him to keep silent to boot. They eventually changed that film over, settling onto a third as the clock was ticking closer to midnight.

Just as the movie began to play, Hanamaki’s phone began to buzz, and he pulled it from the pocket of his sweat pants to check the message he’d been sent, but not before adjusting the brightness on his screen after wincing and almost blinding himself. After a while, Matsukawa realised Hanamaki hadn’t looked up from his phone once in over ten minutes, and frowned, mulling over what could be holding his attention. Acting on a rather childish impulse, Matsukawa shifted on the couch to turn his back to Hanamaki while pulling the blanket they had fetched in the second film over him more as he lay down, his head slapping onto Hanamaki’s hard thigh that bounced under him in shock.

“Fuck! Mattsun, you startled me.” The familiar nickname rolled so easily off his tongue and Hanamaki slouched, looking down at the largely built man resting his head in his lap, cuddling up under the blanket. “You alright?”

“I’m starved of attention.” Matsukawa didn’t bother to hide his pout as he raised a hand to take Hanamaki’s phone from his hand. Hanamaki didn’t oppose him and let him do so. Matsukawa didn’t read whatever messages he’d been sent – he had no right to do so, and he didn’t want to pry – and he lightly tossed it onto the coffee table over flowing with half empty snack bowls.

“Oh? Is that all?” Hanamaki chuckled quietly and dropped his hand to touch the now dry hair that was sticking out wildly in every which direction, a dishevelled style that suited him far too well. Matsukawa shut his eyes, sighing inaudibly as Hanamaki’s nails lightly scratched his scalp and played with his hair.

He heard Hanamaki chuckle above him once more in that gentle, low hum, and opening his eyes a fraction, he saw Hanamaki smiling down at him with a dopey grin on his face. He was sporting that warm and all too kind expression that made his cheeks look rounder and his eyes soften as they became half lidded, curtained slightly by short lashes. The light of the television flashed against his skin, cooling his features in soft blue light with the shadows playing on parts of his face and drawing out the finer lines of his cheekbones and jaw.

It struck Matsukawa all too suddenly in that moment.

Hanamaki was a really handsome guy.

He’d thought he was cute before, with how easily startled he was when one sneaked up on him, and how he had a sweet-tooth that rivalled a spoiled child, and how prone he was to giggling and snickering until he was wheezing from laughter at some ridiculous joke. But right then, such thoughts were replaced by the sight of a smile that warmed his insides and made him feel uneasy all of a sudden.

Fiercely reeling back an urge to do something he might regret, Matsukawa squeezed his eyes shut and rolled onto his side to break the eye contact he hadn’t realised he’d been holding with him and instead nuzzled his thigh, pretending that he wanted his hair to be played with so that he could sleep. Hanamaki didn’t question him, and instead began to laugh a little more wholly as he switched his hands to rest his forearm on Matsukawa’s shoulder while playing with the tousled locks of dark hair.

Without meaning to, Matsukawa began to doze off, drifting in and out of a wakeful state, and as the third movie began to slowly wrap up, Hanamaki leaned forward to look down at the form curled up at his side.

“Mattsun?” Hanamaki whispered his name, wondering if he were awake at all. When he received no reply, Hanamaki sighed and smiled to himself, propping up an arm on the armrest of the lounge seat to hold his chin and he stared down at Matsukawa, drinking in what little he could see in the dim light as the credits rolled.

Tired and not paying a great deal of attention, Hanamaki’s fingers slipped from Matsukawa’s hair, gliding over his temple with the back of his hand and grazing his cheek with his knuckles lightly, a soft and tender touch he didn’t realise he’d been doing. Not until Matsukawa twitched, and in a panic, Hanamaki clamped his hand down over Matsukawa’s mouth with a slap that jolted him awake all of a sudden.

Matsukawa swore behind Hanamaki’s hand, and Hanamaki laughed nervously as he removed his hand and slapped Matsukawa’s shoulder, claiming he had gotten his revenge before urging him to get off so he could go to bed already. Matsukawa complied, sitting up just enough to allow Hanamaki to stand, his right leg a little dead from having the weight of Matsukawa’s head on it for so long. Hanamaki collected his phone and turned off the television before wishing Matsukawa a good night’s sleep on his tiny couch.

Matsukawa only grumbled, partly from having been startled out of his sleepy state, and settled back down in the dark lounge to bury his head in the warmth of the cushion his host had been leaning against. He heard shuffling for a while before the bedroom door nearby opened and closed, leaving him alone. Hesitantly, Matsukawa brought a hand to his face, cupping it gently as his fingers gently skimmed over the places where Hanamaki’s hand had lingered. The skin there felt warm and he buried his head under the thick blanket he had been given earlier.

‘ _Don’t, Issei. Just don’t_.’ Matsukawa wasn’t even entirely sure what he was warning himself against.

Beyond the bedroom door, Hanamaki stood with his back pressed to it, his heart leaping out of time in his chest so much it began to hurt.

He shouldn’t have done that.

He absolutely should not have done that.

What was he thinking?

The problem, he told himself, was that he hadn’t been paying attention. And he had gone and done something stupid. He hoped Matsukawa thought he was just trying to bully him a little. That would be better than any alternative.

His heart wouldn’t settle, however, and he eventually moved away from the door to collapse on the bed that creaked loudly under the sudden weight dropped on it. ‘ _I’m restless...that’s all it is, haven’t gone out in a while. And it’s easy to hang out with him. Easy to fool around._ ’ Hanamaki tried to convince himself of a hundred different things at once, the words eventually jumbling in his mind until he could no longer think of it any more. He sat up in his bed, swiping across the screen of his phone to unlock it, and began to search through his contacts for a name belonging to someone he hadn’t texted for a while. His fingers tapped away at the screen in a hasty message.

‘ _Are you free to meet up sometime soon?_ ’

He curled up under his blankets after plugging in his phone to stop it from dying overnight, and as he settled into his mattress, the device vibrated on the end table and crawled towards the edge as the screen lit up. He thought it might be Oikawa for a moment, since Matsukawa had interrupted the conversation they had been having earlier.

When he looked at the screen however, it read the name of the person he had texted mere moments ago. He hadn’t expected a reply that quickly. Though it wasn’t the first time they had texted one another at an ungodly hour.

‘ _Miss me already? I’m flattered. I’m free next Tuesday afternoon, around 2pm, want to meet at the usual spot?_ ’

Hanamaki chewed on the inside of his lip. He forgot how easily he had been able to do this in the past. With a quiet sigh, Hanamaki shifted onto his elbows to type a reply, and tried to ignore the way a few simply words made him feel like he was betraying a part of himself.

‘ _Yeah, I’ll see you there._ ’

Hanamaki had barely put his phone down before he received a small pop-up notification that the message had been read, and seconds later a reply came through, and he leaned back in bed as he stared at the dim screen, the words meaning little to him but causing a strange ache in his chest.

‘ _It’s a date then._ ’


	8. Realisation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly didn't expect to update this for a while, especially not after updating yesterday, but I woke up in a good mood and managed to dish this out. We're finally onto the iwaoi side of this story!

The university library had many nooks and crannies that were perfect to settle into for long overdue study sessions. Iwaizumi had managed to commandeer one on the upper level, tucked away behind aisles of bookshelves and away from a chattering group on the opposite side of the room that seemed to be discussing a party rather than working.

He wished they would shut up or take it elsewhere, but he didn’t let it bother him for long. Iwaizumi set up his things, and while waiting for his laptop to turn on he flipped through a textbook for the assigned reading he was supposed to have read before his class tomorrow. Ordinarily, he tried to get his readings done days in advance to avoid unnecessary stress, but he’d been distracted somewhat over the last few days.

Oikawa hadn’t sent him a text in days. It wasn’t something to go unnoticed, as he had had to force himself into the habit of putting his phone on silent because it rang out far too often with Oikawa messaging him. His texts were particularly useless things; this girl in this class spilled coffee on his notes, he almost tripped down the steps at the station because some high schoolers were fooling around, he fell asleep while studying and his glasses had left lines on his face. The texts were utterly unimportant. Rarely did he receive a message asking about something related to their university work – though that was mostly because Oikawa would often ask him such things in person.

Worse still, he hadn’t really seen Oikawa on campus for a while. Iwaizumi knew he still attended classes, he often saw him slipping into the back of the lecture hall for their literature class, the only one they shared, just as it began, but he left quickly after it finished, another unusual thing on top of everything else.

He had tried to tell himself it was none of his business. None at all. Especially not when he himself had been ignoring him a little as well. Iwaizumi wondered if maybe Oikawa was trying to throw his own silent treatment back at him, but it felt too odd. It seemed too out of the ordinary and it irked him.

The soft start-up hum of his laptop brought his focus back and Iwaizumi did his best to shove those distracting thoughts out of his mind. He succeeded long enough to get into a groove, and was able to take notes from the textbook, his fingertips flitting across the laptop’s keyboard quickly.

An hour went by, and as he began to check his student emails, a voice called out to him. He recognised it immediately, but didn’t bother to look up as Matsukawa jogged across the library floor to come to a stop at Iwaizumi’s desk. He placed two coffee cups on the desk, steam billowing from the sipping-slits, and grabbed a chair nearby to sit backwards on it, resting his forearms on the backrest as he faced Iwaizumi.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Matsukawa sighed the words and grabbed his cup, taking the lid off to blow on the liquid surface, watching the caramel coloured drink ripple a little.

“That so?” Iwaizumi smirked a little as he closed the lid of his laptop with a gentle snap, stretching to take the drink Matsukawa had gotten him. He took a brief sip, the coffee warm on his tongue, and made an approving sound in his throat. A thought came to mind quickly, and lifted his head to give Matsukawa a curious look. “Wait, you don’t have class on Thursdays. What are you doing here?”

“I, um…I need to talk to you.” Matsukawa was quiet for a moment, staring down into his coffee and tapping the cup with his nails lightly. Iwaizumi could tell well enough there was something weighing on his shoulders. He looked restless, something that he didn’t see often enough to get used to.

“Sure, but just quickly,” Iwaizumi gestured to the drink in his hands. “How many of those have you had today?”

“What? Oh, like…three? No, four, I made myself one for breakfast- Hey!” Matsukawa narrowed his eyes at Iwaizumi when he reached over the table and took the cup from him.

“How many times do I have to tell you to cut back?” Iwaizumi sighed the words as he put down the cup on the ground under his desk, out of the way of his feet and well out of Matsukawa’s reach. “Now, what’s on your mind?”

Matsukawa fell quiet again. He hunched over, resting his chin on the backrest of the chair as he drummed his fingers on the desk, trying to organise his thoughts. Iwaizumi didn’t rush him. He knew that sometimes Matsukawa needed a moment to get his words right, and sat in silence, patiently waiting while drinking the bitter black coffee he’d been bought.

“You like Oikawa, right?” The sudden and utterly unexpected question made Iwaizumi choke on his drink, sucking some of the hot coffee down his windpipe. While he jolted upright in his seat, coughing and slapping a hand to his chest, Matsukawa continued to talk, unfazed by his reaction. “And I don’t mean like-…like high-school _like_ , you know that bullshit ‘ _I like-like you_ ’ kind of thing, you know, like you actually have a thing for him and-”

“Wait, wait! Stop!” Iwaizumi held up a hand to silence him, his face turning several shades of pink in a matter of seconds. “Just- what the hell on earth gave you that idea?”

“Seriously? You’re _seriously_ asking me that?” Matsukawa glowered are him incredulously. “Whenever we’re on campus, you’re always keeping an eye out for him, and you _always_ go out of your way to get the idiot something to eat when you have a study session together. And don’t think I didn’t notice you staring at your phone all day yesterday. For fuck’s sake, you’ve been avoiding him like the plague and I can’t for the life of me understand why when you’re all-”

“Look- just- ugh.” Iwaizumi interrupted him, trying to get a word in edgeways. When Matsukawa finally stopped, Iwaizumi covered his eyes with a hand, sliding it down his reddening face as he tried to find some way to reply. “Is there a question or something in all this?”

Matsukawa sat up straight and gripped the backrest of the chair, and Iwaizumi noticed the colour of his knuckles fading as he held onto it tightly. “How’d you figure it out?” The question was quiet, mumbled, and Iwaizumi tilted his head a little in confusion.

“Figure what out?” He asked, a brow raised. The earlier annoyance was gone. Matsukawa had a rhyme and reason to his madness, there would be a point somewhere in all this. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t suffered embarrassing conversations before just…not about Oikawa.

“How’d you figure out you…you know, that you like him? And stop with that face, I’m being serious.” Matsukawa pouted at him fiercely. He must have started to glare without realising it, and he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, which felt warm under his hand.

“Well, it wasn’t like I woke up one day feeling excessively gay and picked him, or whatever.” Iwaizumi propped up an arm to rest the knuckles of his fingers against his temple, staring down at the black abyss that he swirled in his cup. “I mean. Oikawa’s- he’s annoying. He’s _so_ annoying some times. And he’s flirty, and childish, and his self-confidence borders on arrogance.”

“Wow, is that all?” If it had been anyone else, it may have been sounded like a serious question, but Iwaizumi knew how to distinguish Matsukawa’s monotonous sarcasm.

“No, that’s not all, you ass. As much as all of that, he’s smart. I don’t know how he does in all his classes, but he tops our literature unit in marks for every assessment. But he’s stupid in that he’ll stay here until closing time looking for research materials and misses the last train home and has to trudge his way to a friend’s for the night.” The words fell from his mouth like a broken dam, a relentless tide of thoughts that he’d buried away in his mind. Matsukawa sat quietly across from him, listening the entire time as his friend barely paused to take a breath between words. “He won’t eat during the day if someone doesn’t remind him, and he whines about how annoying his contacts are even though he has glasses. He can’t hold his liquor for shit and he has this annoyingly cute laugh and it pisses me off every time he puts that stupid fucking fake smile on his face when talking with people and I _hate_ when he lies and acts like nothing ever bothers him.”

Iwaizumi stopped talking after a pause, staring at the half empty coffee cup that had creased on the side from where he had been squeezing it, and he sighed a curse under his breath and ran a hand through his hair. Matsukawa didn’t say anything, but under the table, he nudged his knee against him, the smallest assurance he could give that he was listening and would wait.

“Remember when we all went out drinking?” Iwaizumi asked him all of a sudden, his gaze still drowning in that black coffee.

“As if I could forget that.” Matsukawa replied, but his words held none of the sarcasm from before.

“When I hauled Oikawa back to mine, we were talking. About some bullshit nonsense. He was whining about how steep the hill was up to the apartment and that I should carry him and shit.” The tiniest smile perked up the corners of his lips as he spoke. “I got him settled in the lounge and made sure he wasn’t going to throw up all over my nice furniture and right as I was going to go to bed, he looked at me with this stupid, drunk grin on his stupid, pretty face and he told me I’d make a great husband for some pretty lady one day.”

“And?” Matsukawa raised a brow, curious as to where the conversation was headed. Iwaizumi sighed and looked up at him finally, and Matsukawa was surprised by the look in his eyes. It was almost a perfect mirror to the way Hanamaki had looked at him just the other day, eyes half-lidded with a warmth in them that he wasn’t sure what to do with. It took him a second to remember that Iwaizumi had begun to speak, and quickly refocused himself.

“-asked me if I had a girlfriend. When I told him I didn’t, he started going off about how he didn’t believe me for whatever goddamn reason he was mumbling about.” Iwaizumi had clearly thought about that night a lot, given that he remembered so much about it. “And then, that asshole had the audacity to say that he was glad I didn’t. I was about to slap him upside the head when he said he’d be lonely if I got one, since I’d spend more time with her than with him.”

“Seriously? He said that?” Matsukawa’s eyebrows lifted up in surprise, and Iwaizumi nodded at him.

“Yep. And since then, I haven’t been able to get him out of my head.”

“Soo…why have you been avoiding him? Exactly?”

“Because I don’t know what the fuck to do, okay? Before that, I don’t…I didn’t think about him like I- like I liked him, not before. I wasn’t constantly aware of him, he was just _there_ , and now, I can’t get him out of my mind. Because after that moment, every time I looked at him, I thought something stupid like he has a nice smile when he isn’t pretending, or that his hair looks not-so-dumb for once, or that he looks cute when he’s picking apart his milk bread to eat it in pieces.” Iwaizumi rubbed his face with both hands in a desperate attempt to keep his expression in check. He didn’t know what kind of face he was making. He slouched in his seat and looked up at the ceiling. He felt like holding Matsukawa’s gaze in that moment would kill him. “So, to answer your question, I didn’t figure anything out. It crept up on me and suddenly I realised I can’t stop thinking about him.”

The two sat in silence for a while, surrounded by the quiet sounds of shuffling and distant chatter in the library. Iwaizumi took a long sip from his crumpling coffee cup, downing the last of it in a few large gulps. It had gone cold while they, well, while he had been talking. It had been a long time since Matsukawa had heard Iwaizumi vent like that – and longer still about someone he admitted having feelings for.

“I think I’m start to know the feeling.” Matsukawa replied, a gentle smile on his face as Iwaizumi pulled his gaze away from the roof. The two shared a heavy stare for a moment, and realisation dawned on Iwaizumi quickly.

“Ah…so that’s what this is about.” Iwaizumi rested his arms on the desk and leaned forward, as if to share some juicy secret with him, a small smirk forming on his lips. The look in his eyes was a mischievous one, a look he didn’t see all too often on his serious friend’s face. Now it was his turn. “Finally noticed you like Hanamaki, hm?”

“How long did you know it?” Matsukawa laughed through his words, unable to keep the pitiful smile off his face.

“Long enough. You get this stupid smile on your face when Oikawa talks about him, you know.”

“I don’t. Do I?”

“You really do. You stayed at his place the other day, right? Something happen?”

“Nothing…nothing _happened_. I just…”

“Realised?”

“Yeah…something like that.”

Iwaizumi whistled and Matsukawa responded by lightly kicking him under the table, which only made Iwaizumi laugh as he began to pack up his things. He told Matsukawa to come with him, that they were going to go down the street and binge on burgers and smoothies and talk about what hopeless morons they were. Matsukawa happily agreed, and the two left the university, but not without Iwaizumi nudging him in the chest with his elbow and demanding to know all about those little feels he’d been keeping to himself. It wasn’t until they had left the campus grounds that Iwaizumi realised he had left Matsukawa’s coffee under the desk, and Matsukawa just laughed at him for bringing it up in the middle of the conversation.

Iwaizumi couldn’t help but smile at the way Matsukawa’s face reddened at the topic of the tattoo artist. He wasn’t easily embarrassed, and when he was, he was able to hide it pretty well. It spoke legions about how he regarded Hanamaki. Matsukawa was a laid back kind of guy, not one to talk openly about certain things. Iwaizumi was privileged to those little talks after having known him for so long.

Iwaizumi asked him for details. What details, Matsukawa didn’t know. He had no idea how his friend had been able to blurt out all he did in the library – like it was some rehearsed speech he’d been hanging onto. Matsukawa didn’t have anything like that. So, despite his better judgement in light of his blushing face, he began to say whatever came to mind.

“He’s really easy to sneak up on.” It was the first thing he said, and Iwaizumi slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter and to swallow a snarky comment. “He startles easily too, but it’s cute. And he does this thing, with his hands, like when he’s nervous or doesn’t know what to say, he rubs the back of his neck with both hands.”

“Please tell me there’s more to your little crush than that.” Iwaizumi snickered as they walked down the street side by side, and Matsukawa nudged his shoulder against his, and Iwaizumi returned the gesture quickly.

“I don’t know man. He just…” Matsukawa thought on it for a moment. He had been wondering for a while what that twisting feeling in his stomach was whenever he was around Hanamaki. It was hard for him to put it into proper words. He hadn’t had the luxury of knowing Hanamaki for a great deal of time, and the time they had spent together had been under various circumstances. He was still learning about him, getting to know him. It muddled his mind and made him confused. But there were some things he knew for certain. “He has a really gorgeous smile. It reaches his eyes and you can tell he’s just really happy, and I, fuck man, it just…”

“Makes you all warm and gooey inside?” Iwaizumi smiled at him smugly.

“Please don’t say it like that.” Iwaizumi laughed boisterously when Matsukawa’s face went a dark shade of red.

“So, what are you going to do about it?”

“I…don’t know.” Matsukawa said the words slowly, and Iwaizumi gave him a curious look that told him to go on. “It’s just…he’s really my type, like, in a guy, you know? He’s fun and he’s witty and he’s really, _really_ hot.”

“ _Wow_. Colour me impressed.”

“Shut up.” Matsukawa gave him a pointed look. “Thing is…I don’t know if I like him, like- you know, or if I just want to fuck him.”

“Oh…I get it now.” Iwaizumi tilted his head back, nodding to himself. There was a brief silence as they walked, Iwaizumi clearly in thought and Matsukawa not sure if he wanted to deflect the conversation or drop it all together. “Hey, how long ago was it that you broke up with that girl from the smoothie place?”

“Hm? Uh, like…five months? I dunno. We dated for about a month though.”

“You were real sweet on her though, right?”

“Well, yeah, I guess.”

“So, do you want to go out with Hanamaki like that?” Matsukawa wasn’t sure how to reply to the question. When he didn’t reply at first, Iwaizumi kept talking, offering something that might spark something in him. “You guys went out to the movies, had dinner, texted heaps. You were pretty love-dovey in public to. Is that what you want with Hanamaki? You know, like hold hands and snuggle? Have his attention solely on you? That kind of thing?”

“That…” Matsukawa didn’t know what to say. He looked at his feet while they walked, trying to make sense of the images that flashed through his mind. What would that be like? To go on dates and hold hands and kiss and to wake up beside him and not want anything else but that moment? The more he thought about it, the redder his face got and he bit down on his lower lip. His heart had begun to beat quickly at the mere thought of such things, and his stomach was twisting into that all too familiar knot. He raised a hand to grip his hair, ruffling it nervously. “Fuck man…”

“Answer the question Matsukawa.” Iwaizumi pressed him on it. His reaction didn’t seem to be enough. He wanted to hear it. “Is that what you want?”

“Shit, Iwaizumi, that’s…” Matsukawa blushed more, his gaze flicking anxiously around, unable to settle on anything, but certainly keeping clear of the hazel eyes that were narrowed at him. Unable to stand the gaze drilling a hole through his skull, Matsukawa sighed, his shoulders sagging. “That…that wouldn’t be so bad, I guess.”

“That’s a shitty answer.”

“That’s all I have.”

The two came to a stop at a crossing, standing idly around a thin crowd that was waiting for the lights to change. After a moment, Iwaizumi’s phone began to ring in his pocket, and when he pulled it out, he froze, staring at the screen flashing a name at him.

Oikawa.

Iwaizumi’s thumb instinctively hovered over the decline-call button on the screen. It was rare for Oikawa to ring him, ever. Usually he just texted. It made him worry, that maybe – just _maybe_ – the time he had spent avoiding him had been because of something serious. It wasn’t impossible but the odds weren’t high. Chances were that Oikawa had finally caught onto his silent treatment and didn’t want to bother with him at all after that. The thought hurt, but it was possible.

“You should answer that.” Matsukawa told him firmly. The phone had been ringing for a few seconds, and it didn’t seem like it was going to stop. Iwaizumi’s heart was pounding in his chest.

“I don’t think that’s-”

“Iwaizumi.” Matsukawa’s stern voice was like that of a scolding father. It was hard and left no room for argument, but there was a gentle smile on his face that Iwaizumi thought was reassuring beyond words. “We’ll hang out later, so answer the phone, and deal with your shit.”

“I don’t want to hear that from you.” Iwaizumi sighed and bit down roughly on his lip. He inhaled sharply and accepted the call before he had a chance to stop himself. Matsukawa grinned at him and gave him a double thumbs up when he brought it to his ear. “Hey, Oikawa.”

“ _Ah, um. Hey._ ” Oikawa’s voice was quiet, and Iwaizumi didn’t know what to make of that. It wasn’t like him at all. His voice carried a melodious tone, warm and silky. He heard none of that now. “ _Are you, um. Are you free, like, right now? I mean, it doesn’t matter if you aren’t, you’re probably busy with studying or- or something, sorry._ ”

“No, no, I’m free. Is everything okay?” Iwaizumi couldn’t hide the concern in his voice. Oikawa sounded nervous, panicked. He stumbled over his own words and they jumbled together, Iwaizumi was surprised he could understand him with how quickly he was talking. If something was wrong… “Are you alright?”

“ _I’m fine! Totally!_ ” Iwaizumi didn’t believe those words. “ _I just-I just really need to talk to you, if that’s okay, of course, I mean, it’s no big deal, really, it’s not important or anything._ ”

Which was it? Urgent or unnecessary? Iwaizumi didn’t believe him when he was told it was fine if he wasn’t free, that he didn’t need to push himself or abandon plans to waste his time meeting up with him. The more Oikawa rambled over these little things, the more it made his blood burn. Something was wrong, he knew it. Oikawa didn’t get like this unless he was stressed out, and he’d only seen him like that once before. Oikawa had insisted months ago that that had been a one-off, but now he wasn’t sure.

“Oikawa.” Iwaizumi said his name firmly, and the word silenced Oikawa’s rambling on the other end of the phone. Iwaizumi could hear him breathing, quick and shallow breathes that did nothing to calm his nerves. “I’m free, it’s not a bother. Where are you?”

“ _I’m-I’m at the park, I mean, the one by the station, where we met for the group date, a while back- but really, you don’t have to-_ ”

“I’ll meet you there, don’t go anywhere, alright?”

“ _I mean it though, it’s not-_ ”

“Oikawa. I can be there in ten-no, five minutes. Do not go anywhere. Alright?”

“ _Okay…okay, yeah._ ”

“I’ll see you soon, so just…just stay put. I’ll be there soon.”

“ _Alright, yeah…see you in a bit._ ”

The call ended and Iwaizumi was left staring at his phone, chewing roughly on his lower lip. Oikawa’s responses towards the end had been less than animated. He couldn’t shake the anxiety building in his chest.

“Is he okay?” Matsukawa had cottoned onto the vibe of the conversation from Iwaizumi’s half.

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I hope that’s not it.” Iwaizumi sighed and he gave Matsukawa and apologetic look. “I’ll talk to you later, alright?”

“Yeah, don’t stress it. Go get him, lover-boy!” Matsukawa grinned at him and Iwaizumi shook his head as he turned away, darting across the road in the direction of the park a few blocks over.

He began to run without meaning to, but that realisation didn’t slow him. His sneakers thudded on the sidewalk as he skirted around pedestrians, doing his best not to bump into anyone on his way. The park came into his line of sight before he knew it, and Iwaizumi paused for a moment at the entrance, breathing hard and shifting his weight on his heels, and walked in while twisting around, keeping an eye out for the familiar face he’d grown all too accustomed to. He vaguely remembered the spot where they met up the other week. It wasn’t far.

He headed there immediately, his heart beating loudly in his ears, and praying to whatever god would listen that Oikawa was okay.

And if, by some cruel chance, he wasn’t…

He didn’t want to think about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real quick just in case it caused confusion: to "cotton on" basically means to have an understanding of something. I overheard someone say it today and thought I'd throw it in. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, thank you for reading!


	9. Intoxication

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have absolutely no idea what I did with Oikawa's characterisation in this, so apologies in advance if anything strike you as odd. In any case, I hope you enjoy, and thank you all for reading! c:

True to his word, Oikawa had remained where he was. Iwaizumi had feared he might have chickened out and run away, and for all of three seconds, he was glad to see Oikawa teetering back and forth on a fence that divided the footpath from the grassy gardens. The relief faded quickly, because when he got a good look at him, the worry came right back.

Oikawa looked exhausted. Pale and with bags under his eyes, he sat with his knees drawn up and resting on a fence rail under him with his arms close at his sides. His shoulders were tense, his hair a complete mess yet decent enough to be out in public. He was wearing a simple tee-shirt and a faded pair of jeans with tears in them. If he didn’t look so haggard, he’d have looked a little rebellious.

Oikawa didn’t notice him approach until he was almost standing in front of him. Iwaizumi saw the way his shoulders tensed when his head jerked up, eyes wide and anxious, but the expression vanished under a jubilant façade. He suddenly regretted having spent the last week and a bit ignoring him. There was clearly something wrong, and it had been selfish of him to brush him aside.

“Have you eaten yet?” It was the first thing that came out of Iwaizumi’s mouth. He was half tempted to tell Oikawa outright that he looked like shit, but that wasn’t exactly a good ice-breaker.

“What? Oh, no, I’m not all that hungry.” The lie was a well-practiced one, and Iwaizumi didn’t understand why Oikawa thought he could get away with it after all the times he’d seen through it before.

“You’re still a shitty liar.” Iwaizumi said and rolled his shoulders back, looking to his left and right quickly. “I’m pretty sure there’s a place near here that sells udon. C’mon, my treat. Let’s talk over food.”

Oikawa didn’t get a chance to protest the offer, even if he wanted to. Iwaizumi reached out and gently took hold of Oikawa’s forearm, gently pulling him off the fence rails slow enough for him to stand up properly before sliding his hand down his arm to hold his wrist. He kept a firm but gentle grasp on him, not wanting him to suddenly slip away and run off on his own, and led him through the park back towards the main streets where he paused for a moment to ask directions from a street vendor about the udon restaurant.

Oikawa was quiet the entire way there. Iwaizumi was so used to listening to him rambling about his day that his silence unnerved him. He was constantly flicking his gaze over his shoulder, double checking that Oikawa was alright. Oikawa was staring at the ground, a faint flush on his face as he obediently followed him. Was he sick? Iwaizumi didn’t think so, but it would explain why he looked so tired and listless. It didn’t explain the anxiety in his eyes however, nor did it give him any clue as to the reason Oikawa had called him out.

They found the udon restaurant after fifteen minutes of wandering the streets, and Iwaizumi got them a table and set an order for them both. He knew Oikawa wasn’t a fussy eater, and in that moment, he would have been happy seeing him eat anything so long as he got something in him. A waiter came by after a few moments with the drinks they had ordered, and Oikawa’s hands flew to his when it was placed down for him. He had been fidgeting with his hands nervously and he held onto the glass tightly, his knuckles white and fingers shaking slightly. The seed of worry continued to grow in Iwaizumi and he couldn’t keep his silence for much longer.

“Oikawa, be honest with me, are you okay?” Iwaizumi asked the question as gingerly as he could. He didn’t want Oikawa to shut down all of a sudden. Oikawa’s whole body froze at the question, and Iwaizumi could see the way his chest began to rise and fall a little quicker. He didn’t know what he could say or do that might calm him down.

“I-I’m fine. I am.” It sounded as though he was trying to convince himself more than Iwaizumi. The smile that came over his face was strained, and even though he looked at Iwaizumi, he avoided eye contact, his gaze venturing between his grows or resting on his forehead.

“You don’t look it. You can tell me if something is wrong, you know that, right?” Iwaizumi pressed him about it gently, hoping to pry whatever was on his mind out and bring it into the open. Oikawa clearly had something he wanted to say.

“Nothing’s wrong, I promise. Well, I…I hope not, at least.” Oikawa pursed his lips tightly, his mouth opening and closing as he began to speak and quickly silenced himself. He looked away from Iwaizumi when he spoke that time, and shuffled in the booth seat, making his way to the edge. “I shouldn’t have bothered you, so I’m going to go home for now-”

“Oi,” Iwaizumi lifted his leg under the table and pressed his foot against the booth seat opposite him. The booth was small enough that he was able to do so and prevent Oikawa from slipping out of it, but the act made Oikawa jump in his skin, surprised by the suddenness of it. He gave him as stern a look as he could, and hoped that Oikawa would realise it was out of concern and not of annoyance for once when he looked back at him. “The only thing you’re doing that’s bothering me at the moment is trying to run away. I’m not going anywhere, so take your time and tell me what’s wrong.”

Oikawa fell silent again, his mouth hanging open slightly as he failed to come up with something to counter his words, and after a moment, he released a shaking sigh and buried his head in his hands. “I’m sorry…” He murmured the words into his palms, as if hoping they would be absorbed and he wouldn’t hear. Unluckily for him, Iwaizumi had a good ear, and heard the muffled words.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Oikawa.” Iwaizumi said and stretched over the table to curled his fingers around Oikawa’s wrist gently, pulling his hand away from his face. Oikawa’s eyes were squinted and becoming watery. “Geez, what the hell got you like this?”

Oikawa laughed, a sound that was halfway between a chuckle and a sob, and he lowered his head to keep from looking Iwaizumi in the eye. Iwaizumi kept a hold of his wrist and could feel the beat of his quick pulse under his thumb.

“It’s probably my own fault.” Oikawa explained, his lips turning up into that strained smile once more. “Just- I’m sorry, you know, if I did something or if I said something that time. I mean, obviously I did, I just can’t remember so- whatever it was, I’m really, _really_ sorry.”

“Wait, what?” Iwaizumi gave him a curious look, brows furrowed close, but Oikawa continued to talk.

“I mean, we- well, I was really drunk. I don’t remember half of it, or any of it really. I know I did something stupid, I must have, you wouldn’t have been ignoring me if I didn’t and I’m sorry, I don’t-”

“Oikawa, wait, hold on…!” Iwaizumi tried to interrupt his rambling. He was speaking far too quickly, and Iwaizumi could only catch onto only half of what he was talking about. He was sorry? About being drunk? It took him several long moments of blocking out Oikawa’s rambling to understand that he was talking about the night they had gone out on the group date, which had ended with Iwaizumi carting him back to his apartment.

And a few seconds later, it clicked in his mind, what Oikawa had been worried over. Him, or rather, the fact that he had been ignoring him for a while. Iwaizumi had been ignoring him, for no other reason than that he didn’t know what to do with himself and his feelings – and in doing so, he had inadvertently caused the person he had grown to care for some level of distress. He hadn’t thought Oikawa would be bothered – he thought the worst he would receive would be a few complaints about his sour attitude. But Oikawa was sitting across from him, breathless as he tried to explain himself for a fault that wasn’t his, and Iwaizumi felt a terrible ache in his chest at his own selfishness.

“Oikawa, _stop_.” Iwaizumi said the word sharply enough that Oikawa jerked in his seat, his hanging jaw slowly clamping shut as he pursed his lips and kept his gaze low. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m not mad at you, and I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“What?” Oikawa’s jaw dropped again, and the look in his eyes told Iwaizumi that he didn’t entirely believe him. “But- I know that I-”

“You were drunk, Oikawa. You said some stuff, and that’s fine. You didn’t _do_ anything.” Iwaizumi explained vaguely, not quite ready to fill the gaps in Oikawa’s memory. Iwaizumi didn’t know how he might react to knowing that he had told him he would have been lonely had he gotten a partner. “I just had to figure some stuff out, and I have. I didn’t want to bother you, but I did anyway, so I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

There was a long pause as Oikawa registered his words. Iwaizumi could see the relief washing over him, revealing the cracks in his hollow façade. His eyes became narrowly squinted and watery, and the smallest smile broke across his trembling lips.

“You’re mean even when you’re trying to be nice…” Oikawa’s words were almost childish, but Iwaizumi could hear his voice cracking as he spoke and the way he tried to clear his throat to stifle the sound. He took several deep breathes, his eyes wandering away from Iwaizumi as he sagged in his seat, relaxing as the tense feeling in his body faded.

“I know, I’m sorry.” Iwaizumi replied quietly and he lightly tapped his knee against Oikawa’s under the table, a brief touch to let him know he could take his time in calming down. Oikawa’s gaze fell everywhere, on other patrons happily eating and ordering, the staff that were moving around in the kitchen just behind the front counter – everywhere but before him. Iwaizumi kept his gaze firmly fixated on Oikawa, watching the way his demeanour slowly shifted from one of anxiety to one of ease, if only just.

“Well…good. Good, then,” Oikawa pushed his arms out and splayed his fingers, as if physically trying to settle the matter as he spoke. “We can just pretend this week never happened and go back to how things were.”

How things were? Iwaizumi wasn’t even sure what that meant. Before, he’d just been deluding himself with excuses as to why he didn’t think anything more of Oikawa aside from being that slightly annoying friend he shares one class with at university. Before, he had never thought anything more of the two of them meeting up for lunch, to chat and complain about classes, or to study, or to go out for drinks when he had been pestered enough. Oikawa’s drunken honesty had been an eye opener for him. It made him realise all the finer things he liked about Oikawa, and how even the things he told himself he found annoying were just as cute.

Would he be able to act like he hadn’t noticed any of that? Like nothing at all had happened? The thought made something in his chest twinge and twist uncomfortably. Oikawa sat across from him, smiling awkwardly but with genuine relief so apparent in his eyes. He opened his mouth to agree with him, but the words died in his throat and Oikawa gave him a confused look when he failed to reply.

“I’m sorry,” Iwaizumi said the words as he stiffened in his seat. He saw the look of anxiety flash across Oikawa’s expression for a brief moment before he spoke again. “I can’t do that. I’m sorry.”

“Oh…okay then. I understand.” Oikawa’s gaze fell again, and he once again shifted towards the edge of the seat. Iwaizumi hadn’t moved his foot from earlier, and he moved to press it harder against the booth’s cheap leather, effectively blocking Oikawa’s escape.

“No, you don’t.” Iwaizumi said firmly as he felt a warmth crawling over the back of his neck and cheeks. Oikawa looked at him expectantly, confusion and worry plastered to his expression, and Iwaizumi swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’m in love with you, so…so I can’t pretend like nothing happened.”

The silence that consumed the moment felt like an eternity. Oikawa’s expression shifted into one of outright shock, eyes wide and unblinking with his mouth slightly open. He looked almost like a doll, porcelain and gorgeous and frozen in time. But soon, the words struck a chord in him, finding some meaning, and his skin flushed a bright red within seconds, and yet again those wide brown eyes flickered anywhere and everywhere – aside from Iwaizumi. He began to stutter over words he wasn’t even properly enunciating. Iwaizumi stared in silence, thinking it was rather cute how flustered he had become.

After a while longer, Iwaizumi leaned back in his seat and drove his gaze to the table, unable to stand the silence any longer. He said nothing as he waited, for what he didn’t want to think about. Rejection was most likely and he tried to prepare himself for that.

“Prove it.” The words were soft-spoken and hesitant, but clear enough that when he heard them, Iwaizumi jerked his head up to gape at Oikawa, whose face was so red it looked like he might start steaming at any moment, if such a thing were possible.

“Prove it?” Iwaizumi repeated the words, unsure what he was supposed to do. What did Oikawa want him to do, declare his love for him in as many words as he could think of?

“Yeah, prove it.” Oikawa eventually brought his gaze back to him, locking eyes for an instant as he spoke. The look in his eyes was nervous, but warm and gentle at the same time. The scorn and derision he had expected hadn’t come, and he felt more unsure of himself than he had mere seconds ago. “I won’t believe you until you do so…so…”

Iwaizumi felt that they had been talking for as long as they hadn’t been as yet another pause silenced the conversation. Iwaizumi could hear his heart beating in his ears as he tried to think of something to say that would appease him, but nothing came to mind. Soon, the last sane thought fled his mind and was replaced by the only idea that remained.

Quickly, he fished his wallet out of his pocket and removed a few paper banknotes and left them on the table as he stood. The amount would be more than enough to pay for the food that was still being prepared and the drinks they had sipped at. He didn’t care much for the excess he would be leaving behind. Oikawa gave him a curious look, but jolted upright out of his seat when Iwaizumi said they were leaving. He banged against the table and cursed, mumbling an apology to the wait staff and other patrons for causing a ruckus as he hastily followed Iwaizumi out onto the street.

Outside, the afternoon sun was crawling closer to the horizon, though it was still high enough that the burning orange glaze it left over the world made Iwaizumi squint and raise a hand to cover his eyes. When Oikawa joined him on the street, looking no less nervous and flustered, Iwaizumi hesitantly reached to take his hand in his own. He felt Oikawa’s fingers tense in his grasp, but when he made no attempt to pull away, Iwaizumi tightened his grip by fractions, and tugged on his hand as he began to lead him away.

He vaguely remembered where Oikawa lived. He had been to his apartment only once before, to work with him on an assignment at an ungodly hour of the morning. The route took them down several winding side streets that eventually took them to a small residential area not far from the central business district. As they walked up a small hill in an uneasy silence, hands linked and palms clammy, they could see the corner of the apartment building on the rise. Oikawa looked around nervously, as if expecting a neighbour to pop out at any moment, but no such thing happened.

“Which one is yours?”

“What? Oh, um, it’s the next floor up, number thirteen.”

The words were far calmer than their hearts. Iwaizumi didn’t look back at Oikawa as he climbed the steps, his fingers tightly wrapped around Oikawa’s as he continued to lead him to the next floor. When they arrived at the thirteenth apartment, Iwaizumi released his hand and turned to him slowly, staring up at Oikawa’s still blushing face.

“Y-you know…holding hands while walking me home doesn’t really prove any-” Oikawa began to stutter the words as he lifted his hands to rub them together. He could still feel the warmth of Iwaizumi’s hand in his own, the roughness of his palm scraping his own soft palms. He spoke without intending to, more nervous than anything in that moment. Right then, right there, it was silence that worried him.

“Stop babbling.” Iwaizumi said firmly and he raised a hand to grabbed the collar of Oikawa’s shirt, tugging on the hem just enough that he hunched his shoulders and was forced a few centimetres lower.

Neither of them shut their eyes in the coming seconds. Iwaizumi leaned close, hesitating for only the briefest moment before lightly pressing his lips to Oikawa’s in a tender but chaste kiss. The two locked eyes as their lips met, and Iwaizumi could feel Oikawa’s trembling ever so slightly against his own. As Iwaizumi began to pull away, Oikawa’s eyes slowly closed, becoming half-lidded as he opened his mouth to lean into the kiss a little more. Every inch of his body tensed and his hands unconsciously grasped at Iwaizumi’s shirt, fisting the fabric as he carefully stepped closer.

Iwaizumi delved back into the kiss immediately when Oikawa didn’t pull away from him or reject him. The hand that been clinging to the hem of his own shirt relaxed and he brought it up to cup Oikawa’s cheek, pulling him closer before it slid to become tangled in the coiffed locks of hair framing his face. The kiss deepened for a moment, a tongue grazing against a lip, then against teeth before rubbing against the roof of Oikawa’s mouth, an act that made the taller of the two release a soft and unintentional sigh against Iwaizumi’s lips.

When the two broke apart, the air between them was filled was soft and hushed gasps for breath, the kiss having continued longer than either had anticipated. They stood millimetres away from one another, barely a hair’s breadth between their chests, and Iwaizumi held Oikawa’s gaze far easier than he had earlier. He wasn’t quite sure where he stood with him, but he knew he hadn’t been rejected.

That was a start, he told himself. Perhaps even a beginning.

He wanted to find out what may or may not come next.

“Make sure you eat something for dinner.” It was the first thing that came to mind, and Iwaizumi regretted it a little, but no other words could make it past the thick lump in his throat that had formed all of a sudden. “And not some shitty microwave meal either. Make yourself something decent.”

“I’m bad at cooking…” Oikawa murmured softly, but it was a lie that Iwaizumi saw through immediately. He’d seen Oikawa bring boxed lunches to university, hell, he had even boasted to Iwaizumi and Matsukawa about how far better a cook he was than the two of them combined. “Make me something.”

The invitation was weak and roundabout, and Iwaizumi couldn’t hide the smirk that split his lips apart, even if he wanted to. Oikawa was still blushing red, and he wondered if he had a similar expression as he did. His face certainly felt warm enough.

“If you complain about my cooking, I’ll definitely hit you.” Iwaizumi warned him, though the threat was half hearted, and Oikawa smiled awkwardly as he allowed a quiet but all too amused laugh to pass his lips.

“You better make something good then. I’m fussy.” Oikawa replied honestly, and Iwaizumi smiled more and leaned in once again without thought, having to lift himself up on his toes ever so slightly as Oikawa had straightened himself.

“I know you are,” he spoke against his lips, smiling as he planted a soft and brief kiss against them. “But I love that part of you.”

Oikawa’s face yet again flared up into an ever so red and flustered expression and he lightly slapped Iwaizumi’s chest, pushing him away as he turned towards his door and hurriedly tried to pull his keys out of his pocket. Oikawa mumbled several things at once, and Iwaizumi just barely heard the words ‘ _unfair_ ’ and ‘ _mean_ ’ through his incoherent stuttering.

And despite himself and his better judgement, he couldn’t stop himself from his smile growing wider still. His heart was beating wildly in his chest, pounding in his ears as it threatened to burst. It was painful, nerve-wrecking even, but it filled him with a happiness he could not express in his thoughts nor in words.

He brought a hand to his face while he patiently waited, smiling still as he dragged his fingertips over his lips, and a small chuckle forced its way out of his throat.

‘ _So, there is some truth to that saying_.’ Iwaizumi thought as he recalled how he had once heard that love was intoxicating beyond measure. If a single kiss with Oikawa could leave such a tingling sensation all through his being, he decided it wouldn’t be so bad to be a little drunk on love.


	10. Distraction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally going to be a longer chapter but I decided to divide it into two for better flow and also to tease a friend (sorry not sorry friendo). Last chapter saw IwaOi drama resolved but I will be including more things for those two in the future. If there's anything in particular you'd be eager to read about with those two I am open to some ideas if they're flexible enough to morph into this! c:
> 
> Hope you're all doing well and enjoy~

Oikawa coveted the shady spot under a rather large tree in one of his university’s many courtyards, his back resting against the thick trunk with one leg crossed over the other. Iwaizumi and Matsukawa were buried in a mock exam in preparation for their end of semester finals just before the summer break. Oikawa had already done one such exam that morning, and the trio had agreed to meet up after, which left Oikawa waiting outside in the sweltering heat. He had regretted leaving the air-conditioned library a little too early. Even while sitting in the shade, Oikawa’s skin felt hot and flushed, and could feel the sweat rolling down his temple and cheek and an unamused frown tugged at his lips.

He made a quiet whining sound to himself as he checked the time on his phone. The screen blinked a quarter to five in the afternoon when he flicked it on for the hundredth time, and he began to chew on his lower lip as his thumb hovered over the call button of one of his contacts. He had arranged to go out with Matsukawa and Iwaizumi after their mock exams, and had been intent on inviting Hanamaki as well, though after three missed calls, he was doubting very much if Hanamaki was even available to do so.

It was a thought that struck him as odd. He knew Hanamaki had recently switched his roster with someone at his workplace, and as such was free on Tuesdays for a two weeks in a row. Oikawa would have known if something important had happened, Hanamaki would have told him, he had no doubts about that. He weighed the options in his mind; that his phone had died, that he had left it at work, or he had fallen asleep with his phone left on silent. All were likely scenarios, but it was rare enough that Hanamaki failed to answer his phone, and it left Oikawa feeling worried for a reason he didn’t entirely understand. There was a strange twisting feeling in his gut, one of mindless worry, and not understanding the cause irked him.

The way he was glaring at the phone’s screen ensured that anyone passing by didn’t stop to speak with him, as the usual affable air he held vanished with such a foul expression in place. He didn’t even notice when Iwaizumi and Matsukawa left the behind in front of him and approached him, not until their feet were directly in front of him and a hand was being waved in his face.

“Oi, earth to Shittykawa, if you’re going to ignore us after inviting us out, you better have a good reason.” Iwaizumi stopped waving his hand in front of his face in favour of lightly slapping Oikawa’s cheek, his hand tapping against it until Oikawa shook his head and swatted his hand away.

“Sorry, sorry, lost in thought.” Oikawa said as he stood up and dusted himself off, offering a quick smile to his friends. Matsukawa and Iwaizumi both in turn raised a brow at him, neither fully believing him.

“Hey, we talked about this the other day…” Iwaizumi murmured and narrowed his eyes at him a little, though he was hardly angry at him. When Iwaizumi had taken him home days prior – robbing him of a chance to calm is pounding heart – they had had a long discussion about how neither had properly spoken about what had been bothering them that resulted in them avoiding one another and causing unnecessary worry. Iwaizumi had been adamant that they avoid such things in the future, and Oikawa could tell this was no exception. “What’s on your mind?”

“It’s really nothing important-” The stern look he received from Iwaizumi was enough to give Oikawa pause and he looked away to the ground slightly as he rethought his answer. “I just…I can’t get in contact with Makki-chan, that’s all.”

“Is he sick?” Oikawa could hear the concern in Matsukawa’s voice, and he held up his hands quickly and shook them, almost dropping his phone in the process.

“No, no- well, I don’t think so. I spoke to him yesterday and he seemed fine, I guess.” Oikawa replied honestly as he fastened his grip on his phone so not to almost drop it a second time. “I wanted to invite him out with us but he probably fell asleep. It’s impossible to wake him up when he naps.”

“Just send a text and let him know where we’re going to be drinking.” Iwaizumi suggested and pointed at Oikawa’s phone. “If he shows up, he shows up.”

“I will, I just wanted to be sure…” Oikawa pouted a little before typing out the message and sending it, and promptly tucking his phone into his pocket to clap his hands together. “Anyway! We’re going to relax after a big day, so drinks are on me!”

“That means little when we all have to study in the evening.” Matsukawa laughed, smirking as he followed Iwaizumi and Oikawa off campus. All of them agreed to drink only a little, considering they had study plans for the following evening.

“It’s the thought that counts.” Iwaizumi chuckled with a soft smile, and Oikawa grinned widely at him over his shoulder. Their grins were contagious, and Matsukawa’s amused smile turned into a more genuine one.

“My, my, look at you two love birds,” Matsukawa sighed wistfully, and both Oikawa and Iwaizumi stopped in their tracks to gape at him. “I’m guessing you resolved your little spat?”

Oikawa and Iwaizumi looked at each other in silence for a moment and a flush crept over both their cheeks as they quickly began to walk again. Matsukawa’s grin returned as he lingered behind them, humming the tune of the childish k-i-s-s-i-n-g song until both Iwaizumi and Oikawa glared at him over their shoulders, though Oikawa’s expression was far more mortified than Iwaizumi’s annoyed one. Matsukawa hadn’t heard much from Iwaizumi about what had happened a few days ago with Oikawa. The details had been scarce but Matsukawa could tell that the two were trying to figure out what their relationship had suddenly turned into, and he was more than happy to tease them about it.

Matsukawa merely laughed as he lingered a step behind them, watching with an envious smile at the way Oikawa and Iwaizumi glanced at each other and looked away just as quickly, as if afraid to be caught staring. ‘ _How nice that must be…_ ’ He thought to himself and stuffed his hands in his pockets while ignoring the soft ache in his chest. He promptly told himself not to think on it, to merely enjoy his evening, and playfully stepped on the hells of his friend’s shoes to occupy himself as they walked.

 

* * *

 

Hanamaki inhaled sharply on the cigarette that he held tightly between his teeth as he stared down at his phone, scrolling through the missed calls and text messages Oikawa had left him in the last hour. He had his setting changed to avoid it being known when he read messages, so he was saved from Oikawa spamming his inbox with texts about why he wasn’t answering. He had been tempted to answer the first, but a guilty voice in the back of his mind told him not to. Oikawa had a nasty habit of reading him well and it was the last thing he needed at the time.

Having held his breath for a moment, the taste of smoke burning the back of his throat, Hanamaki carefully removed the cigarette from his lips and blew a trail of smoke that thinned out slowly as it vanished into the air. The park he waited in wasn’t unfamiliar to him, though he hadn’t been there for a few months. It was a popular meeting spot on the brink of the red light district and as such it saw a lot of traffic from people going to and from the area. His gaze drifted to the people walking passed him as he sat on the stone barricade between the footpath and the gardens. A few strangers spared him a curious glance but he paid them no mind. His eyes sought a familiar face, and unable to find it, he brought his gaze back to his phone, opening up the most recent text message conversation he had had that day.

‘ _Hey, I’m running a little late. Should be there soon, 10min tops._ ’

‘ _What happened?_ ’

‘ _I got shuffled out of the train before my stop. Waiting for the next train now._ ’

‘ _Will the booking be affected?_ ’

‘ _Nah, we can use the room until 2am. Plenty of time to get there and have our fun._ ’

‘ _Seriously? Why are we paying for so many hours?_ ’

‘ _Figured you might be a lil pent up after all this time~_ ’

Hanamaki hadn’t bothered to reply to the last message and instead resigned himself to wait quietly until they arrived. It hadn’t been very long since the messages had been sent, so he wouldn’t have to wait much longer. The more he sat there, however, the more he felt something unpleasant brewing inside him. Like a gnawing hunger, it groped and clawed at his insides and his knee bounced impatiently as he sat there, restless and expectant.

He tried to ignore that nagging voice in the back of his mind, the voice that told him what he was doing was something wrong, a betrayal of his own whims and desires. His thoughts clashed together, conflicting and endless while he waited. A part of him wanted to get the tall, dark and handsome vision of Matsukawa out of his mind as quickly as possible. Another part was determined to keep such thoughts in place, reminding him of the warm feeling of his palms and the tender, almost affectionate smile he was convinced was out of nothing more than kindness.

The most dominant thought in his mind told him he was being unfair to himself. How, he didn’t know. But there was a hollow, meaningless truth to it, and he opted to ignore it as best he could.

With a practiced flick of his thumb, Hanamaki shook the ash from his cigarette and watched it fall to the ground under him as he raised it to his lips again. As he did so, a pair of shined dress shoes stepped between his legs and he looked up in time to see a hand reach out and grasp the butt of his cigarette. Fingers pressed against his lips as it was pulled away and another hand stretched, a palm laying on his thigh and stopping his bouncing knee. Hanamaki looked up to stare at the round amber eyes under a flock of tussled silver hair, perfectly manicured nails bit into his cheek as the familiar man took the final drag of the cigarette, the curve of his fingers drawing Hanamaki’s gaze up the mole under his left eye.

“You’re late, Suga-chan.” Hanamaki did his best to smirk up at him, but he felt his expression was lacking, and his words were empty of the usual amiable tone he carried. The small smile on Sugawara’s face grew wider in amusement at the lack of a warm greeting, and he chuckled whilst breathing out the smoke he had inhaled and promptly crushed the cigarette.

“Not even a hello? I’m hurt, Takahiro.” Sugawara had no qualms calling him by his given name, as he always had, and straightened to stand up as he flicked the crushed cigarette into a nearby waste bin with almost perfect aim. As he did so, Hanamaki’s gaze travelled over the dark ink decorating his arm, an extensive canvas of dotted tattoos and spiralling lines to create a sleeve of elegant shapes that reached down to the blackwork rings around his wrist. There was an exact copy on his opposite arm. “How’s work going?”

“Same old, same old. Boss has been telling me to put in an application for studio work.” Hanamaki explained effortlessly. Sugawara had once worked at the tattoo parlour but had quit a few months ago in order to reassess his techniques and style, and so had gone back to learning the art at a major tattooing studio in the city.

“Oh, want me to put in a word with Saeko? There are still unoccupied seats in the studio, and it never hurts to experiment with new things.” Sugawara offered with that affable smile of his.

“I’m still thinking about it, honestly. Not sure if I want to trek halfway across the city for it.” Hanamaki shrugged his shoulders and slipped off the railing to stand beside Sugawara, towering over the shorter fellow.

“You’re as lazy as ever.” Sugawara grinned at him, a mischievous look sinking into his gaze. “I hope you’re going to be a little more enthusiastic when we get to the hotel.”

“You’ll have to wait and see.” Hanamaki quipped, but like before, the words lacked the effortless snark that was carried in his voice.

Hanamaki failed to notice the way Sugawara’s smile cracked and faltered as he walked around him to head to the closest exit of the park, nor did he register the feeling of a curious gaze settling on the back of his head as they walked in tandem. Silence engulfed their conversation, and in the wake of that quiet, the guilty voice began to murmur in the depths of his mind once more.

He knew what he was doing. He knew well enough, at least. Hanamaki told himself it was to stop himself acting stupidly in front of Matsukawa. They got along well, and because of it, Hanamaki felt comfortable doing anything, and that was where his troubles originated. He brushed off the reason as having gone without sex for some time, as the last time he had met with Sugawara for a one night’s stand had been just before he left the parlour to pursue study once more. That had been a few months ago. Of course he would be restless, especially around a guy that was just his type.

Hanamaki wanted the thought of him out of his mind, at least in that sense. If he harboured such thoughts, it would be difficult to look him in the eye if, and when, they meet again. It was selfish of him in a sense, to try and bury the feeling he knew was encroaching on his heart. He enjoyed his company, immensely so. Despite his own fumbling, it was calming to be around him. Matsukawa, however tall and intimidating he seemed, was kind and didn’t take himself too seriously, traits that Hanamaki admired. He didn’t want to put him off or make him feel uncomfortable.

If he could keep things as they were, simple and neutral, Hanamaki was willing to bear the twisting ache in his chest.

Not a single word had been spoken between Hanamaki and Sugawara as they entered the red light district and found their way to their favoured hotel, its reputation praised for their privacy and cleanliness, and relatively cheap prices. Hanamaki lingered at Sugawara’s side uneasily as they exchanged a handful of thousand yen notes for the key to a room that had been booked the day before. Sugawara tossed it lightly in his hand as they climbed the small staircase going up several floors, passing a couple clinging to one another as they did so. Hanamaki looked at them over his shoulder as they went passed, his eyes lingering for a few seconds too long and he tore his gaze away to hop up two steps at a time to catch up to Sugawara.

The loitered in the hallway for a moment as Sugawara unlocked the door to their room and entered, with Hanamaki sluggishly following him inside. The door was shut and locked behind him and the key dumped on a small end table near the room’s entrance. The hotel room itself was scarce in the way of furniture, having only one queen sized bed, an arm chair in the corner by a small television fixed to the wall and a large but purely decorative dresser.

Hanamaki felt a hand press against the space between his shoulder blades when he had been standing at the edge of the bed for a little too long, and grunted a little when Sugawara pushed him forward to fall onto the bed. He rolled over in time to see Sugawara crawling over him, his expression free from any of the earlier warmth, with eyes that were narrow and seemingly indifferent.

Hanamaki reminded himself what he was there for. To relax, to enjoy himself, and to bring an end to his distracted thoughts. He sat up as Sugawara tugged his shirt off, uttering a soft sigh at the feeling of his smooth fingertips grazing against his chest in the process. Sugawara brought his head to the crook of Hanamaki’s neck, planting a soft kiss there as he was stripped of his own shirt just as quickly.

Hanamaki felt his warm breath ghosting across his throat, lips sliding over the flesh there as a moan was uttered when his hands wandered and groped his backside, pulling him close to his chest to grind against him. He’d forgotten the slender curve of Sugawara’s waist and hips, as well as the way his hands slid down his chest to delve into his jeans. When Sugawara’s hand dipped lower and gave him a gentle squeeze, an unwelcome image flashed across Hanamaki’s mind and he growled in response, quick to buck his hips upward into the touch when Sugawara began to grind himself on his lap.

After a while, however, Sugawara removed his hand from his jeans in favour of resting it on his chest and pushing down hard, the same expression as before still firmly fixated in his usually welcoming eyes, and Hanamaki was certain that he was being regarded with an insouciant stare.

“You know I don’t mind substituting Takahiro but you don’t have a strong enough will to actually go through with this, do you?” His words were sharp and cold and Hanamaki shuddered under him, but it was far from a pleasurable feeling. “You’re not even hard. I don’t think you’re even putting any effort into _trying_.”

“It’s not like that-” Hanamaki wasn’t allowed to finish his sentence. Rather, Sugawara – still straddling his hips – hooked his ankles under his calves to leverage himself better and sunk his hips roughly against Hanamaki’s. Any other day, such a thing would have turned him on, but not then. Hanamaki growled again as dropped his head back and slapped a hand to his forehead, gripping tightly at his hair as he squeezed his eyes shut. “Fuck…!”

A few seconds later, he heard a heavy sigh above him and the weight on his pelvis vanished as Sugawara rolled off his lap to sit beside him. “There goes fifteen thousand yen…” He heard Sugawara mumble under his breath as he heard the shuffling sound of his shirt being pulled back on.

“I’m sorry.” Hanamaki said quickly and sincerely, but Sugawara laughed upon hearing the words.

“Don’t be a baby, now get dressed. Let’s go see if we can’t charm the receptionist and get some of our money back.” Sugawara stood up off the bed and rested his hands on his hips as he looked down at Hanamaki over his shoulder. “And then, we’re going to go out drinking, and you’re going to tell me all about this person you’re so wrapped up in you can’t even get it up for me.”

“You’re mad, aren’t you?” Hanamaki couldn’t help but smile a little as he yanked his shirt back over his head.

“I should be, but I’m not.” Sugawara sighed again and a small but genuine smile appeared on his face. “You have good taste in men, so they must be one hell of a guy.”

Hanamaki stared up at him in silence for a moment before looking away and staring at the carpet of the hotel room. The guilty, nagging voice in the back of his mind whispered Matsukawa’s name and brought the sight of him to life in his mind; jovial yet unpretentious, and with a tender kindness that was suffocating his thoughts.

He had gone out with the intention of ridding himself of such thoughts, or at the very least, deluding himself into thinking they were a result of a lack of intimacy with another person.

He felt foolish for thinking he could try and trick himself into believing that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note before more serious note: 15,000 yen is approximately $175 AUD which I'm just going to assume is a fair price for hotel-fuck-spots since I am in no ways an expert on that stuff.
> 
> Anyway, the important thing, I've included Sugawara in this with the intent of potentially including some small bits of DaiSuga as this goes on and because the other ideas I had weren't quite as good and I didn't want to create some random to throw in when I did have options. If it's received well or there's interest I might include DaiSuga and focus on some other characters (might make a separate thing for it hmm) but for now this is where it is. I was tempted to use Terushima but wasn't sure about it so this happened. Any who, enough yammering, hope you enjoyed and have a good day/night! :)


	11. Intrusion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second part of the previous chapter I decided to split. It wasn't supposed to be this long and it wasn't supposed to end how it did but here we are.
> 
> Enjoy and have a good day! c:

Matsukawa woke up groggily and rolled onto his back on the uncomfortable sofa he had crammed himself onto the night before without much thought of whether it was appropriate or not to sleep on. He hadn’t had much to drink, much like the others, so he was spared from the cruel feeling of a nasty hangover. He blinked as he looked around the living room flooded with light from the open curtains framing the window near the balcony entrance, and he groaned loudly when he was momentarily blinded after looking in that direction.

“Morning sunshine.” A gruff and hoarse voice greeted him and something blurry in the corner of his eye was waved around. Matsukawa turned to see Iwaizumi leaning against the back of the couch, holding a steaming mug of coffee in one hand while sipping from his own. “Took you long enough to get your ass up.”

“Mhh…” Matsukawa wasn’t able to think of a few words to offer in reply, his mind vacant and empty and slowly awakening, and he reached to take the mug that was warm against his fingertips. The taste was bitter but exactly the way he liked it, though he knew Iwaizumi would have halved the amount of actual caffeine in it somehow, as he always managed to do. He made an appropriate noise of thanks in the back of throat and sipped at the warm and bitter drink. The coffee woke him up enough that he was able to ask a question in a small and rasping voice after several long moment so sleepy silence. “Time…?”

“Just after ten.” Iwaizumi stretched a hand out to ruffle Matsukawa’s hair, though it was already a tangled mess from tossing and turning on the couch half the night. Matsukawa shook his head to stop the affectionate gesture.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” Matsukawa received a light slap to the back of his head as he began to look around the living area again and he made a quiet whining noise as he rubbed his head. He was ready to grumble at Iwaizumi until he saw his friend pointing towards the balcony door. Matsukawa blinked and squinted through the sliding door and the floor to ceiling length window, catching sight of Oikawa leaning against the rails in the clothes he had slept in, his cell phone held up to his ear as he ignored a quickly cooling cup of tea in his other hand.

“He’s already tried to call Hanamaki twice since leaving a message last night.” Iwaizumi explained, and Matsukawa vaguely remembered Oikawa calling Hanamaki to check and see if he was alright before they had dragged themselves to Iwaizumi’s apartment to sleep for the night. They had tried to convince him that he may have just been in a mood and didn’t want to speak with anyone, and it had taken a long time for them to convince the slightly Oikawa and almost excessively worried Oikawa to go to sleep. “Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he woke up in the middle of the night to call him.”

“He hasn’t called back or anything yet?” Matsukawa turned his head to look up at Iwaizumi, unable to conceal the concern in his expression. He saw a similar look in Iwaizumi’s eyes; a perfect mix of a frown and furrowed brows, and eyes that were murky with uncertainty.

“No, and it’s hard not to worry at this point.” Iwaizumi replied and ran a hand over his face before staring out the window at Oikawa, who was already in the process of redialling Hanamaki’s number.

“What do we do?” Matsukawa asked him, unsure himself about what would be acceptable for them to do. They had gotten close enough to Hanamaki that they could call him a friend despite having only known him for a short while, and they weren’t so cruel as to leave Oikawa to handle the matter himself. Even so, it was a strange situation. Hanamaki didn’t seem the type to reckless, at least not in the sense of getting involved in something serious or dangerous, and in the event nothing was going wrong or they had interrupted a delicate matter, they might end up inconveniencing him more than anything else, despite their good intentions.

Iwaizumi tapped his fingers against his mug and heaved a heavy sigh as he straightened himself. “There’s only one thing to do. You left some of your clothes here the last time you came over, so go change. They’re on my desk.” He explained and cocked his head back a little to gesture to the room over his shoulder.

Matsukawa nodded and placed his mug down on the coffee table beside the couch and stood to head into Iwaizumi’s bedroom to change quickly. As he did so, he heard the sound of the sliding door open, followed by the murmur of Iwaizumi calling out Oikawa’s name softly. Within minutes of dressing himself, Iwaizumi had entered the bedroom to pick up a shirt for Oikawa to wear, considering little else of his would fit him. When Matsukawa followed him back into the living room, it was obvious how fretful Oikawa was, and how terrible he was at concealing it no matter how he tried. His smile was weak and half-hearted, he looked restless and exhausted with dark circles under his eyes, and he shifted his weight from foot to foot as Iwaizumi handed him the shirt and he quickly stripped himself of the one he had slept in to put on the clean one.

After gathering the necessities of keys and wallets and phones, the three quickly left the apartment, and it was all but a race to the station from that moment on. Oikawa had instigated it, having first started to walk a little quicker than them. Iwaizumi hadn’t been quick enough to stop him as he broke into a sudden sprint, and the two cursed as they quickly picked up their pace to match his. When they got to the station and were safely abroad the train bound for Hanamaki’s district, Iwaizumi had been quick to scold Oikawa in full view of other passengers, saying it would have been on his head if he had gotten into an accident in his haste.

The words were utterly out of concern for him, and Oikawa knew it, and he mumbled a quiet apology as he stood anxiously by the train doors. Iwaizumi found it hard to remain mad at him when he was as distressed as he was. The trip took them around a half an hour, and when Oikawa tried to bolt off the train, Iwaizumi grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and yanked him back hard to stop him from barrelling into others waiting to board the train. Oikawa whined at him but Iwaizumi was stern as he told him to calm down and be more careful.

To his credit, Oikawa tried to listen to him. In the end though, he was unable to keep the uncertain fear away, and the moment they exited the station, he had begun to sprint in the direction of Hanamaki’s apartment with a cursing Iwaizumi and Matsukawa hot on his heels.

The last time Matsukawa had been to Hanamaki’s apartment, it had almost taken them twenty minutes of dawdling to get there. Running at as fast a pace as they could to keep up with Oikawa meant that they arrived in half that time, wheezing and trying not to cough up their lungs as they climbed the steps up to Hanamaki’s floor.

“Oikawa, you bastard…!” Iwaizumi huffed the words as he jogged up the steps behind him, careful not to trip on them as Oikawa had moments ago.

“Fuck…I haven’t run like this since high school…” Matsukawa could barely say the words as he panted and tried to catch his breath. He used the railing to help pull his weight up the steps. They were hardly out of shape, but after a night of drinking and poor sleep, it wasn’t a kind thing to do to their bodies.

When they got to the floor of Hanamaki’s apartment, Oikawa was already banging his palm against the door while leaning heavily against the jam. Iwaizumi told him not to be so loud, lest he cause trouble for Hanamaki’s neighbours, but the words fell on deaf ears as Oikawa repeated the act again, his eyes locked onto the peephole. After a heavy moment of silence, Oikawa reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys that jangled on a keychain with a childish charm of an alien head. He fumbled for one in particular and reached to unlock the door just as he heard the lock snap from the other side.

“Hanamaki! You jerk-!” Oikawa’s indignant cries died as soon as the door opened wide enough to look inside, and Matsukawa felt a cruel and painful sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach when he saw someone that absolutely wasn’t Hanamaki standing there, half dressed and with an utterly dishevelled look about them.

Dark brown eyes were half-lidded but the man carried an all too aware gaze, despite looking as though he had just crawled out of bed. His silver hair was ruffled and he was clad only in a pair of loosely zipped up yet unbuttoned jeans, the fabric just barely fitting to his hips. Matsukawa’s throat suddenly felt dry as he stared at the person, wondering just who they were, and what they were doing in Hanamaki’s apartment, and why he was half dressed. He reined himself in quickly, knowing he had no right to voice such questions, but they gnawed at his mind and chipped away his reason.

“Mh?” The person blinked at Oikawa for a moment, as if trying to place a face to a name in a matter of seconds. In his hands he carried a steaming cup of honey gold tea that sloshed at the rim of the cup when he straightened in surprise. “Tooru! Wow, it’s been a while, how’ve you been?”

“Kou-chan…” Oikawa murmured the name, confusion replacing the worry and short-lived relief he had been feeling. “What are you doing here?” The silver-haired intruder was quiet for a moment, his eyes drifting between the three of them standing breathless in front of him before a warm and perhaps a little too cheerful smile came across his face.

“I thought it might be nice to catch up with Takahiro. It’s been a while since we’ve both had the time to go out and have a little fun, you know?” The explanation was swift, almost rehearsed, and he leaned against the door frame while lifting the cup of tea to sip from it. The way he spoke Hanamaki’s name so familiarly made Matsukawa’s stomach lurch a little and he hoped his expression didn’t show any of the annoyance he felt at such a small thing. “Who are your friends?”

“Oh! This is Iwaizumi and Matsukawa,” Oikawa began and turned to them, introducing them individually and Matsukawa locked eyes with the silver haired intruder for a few moments longer than necessary, “This is Sugawara, he used to work with Makki-chan at the tattoo parlour.”

“Used to?” Matsukawa raised a brow as he stared down his nose at him. The question sounded a little cold, and he chewed on the inside of his lip a little, internally scolding himself for it. It was unkind, and he shouldn’t presume. He knew he shouldn’t.

“I quit to go back to study tattooing styles and the like. I still have a job waiting for me when I finish though.” Sugawara explained easily and straightened himself to stand away from the door frame as he opened the door wider. “Anyway, come on in, you three look like you just ran a marathon.”

It annoyed Matsukawa more than he would like admit that this person was comfortable enough in Hanamaki’s world to invite others into his home without his say so, but he said nothing as he followed him inside. As they entered the kitchen, Matsukawa’s gaze flicked towards the living room, and the fact that the couch looked untouched bothered him. His thoughts began to trouble him more than he wanted them to and he tried to redirect his attention, but when his gaze was drawn back to Sugawara, it was hard to keep such invasive thoughts at bay.

“Kou-chan, where’s Hanamaki?” Oikawa looked around the apartment carefully, seeking out his friend. “Is he out?”

“He’s taking a bath.” Sugawara explained simply as he began to busy himself with making another cup of tea, and it couldn’t go unnoticed the way he added an almost excessive amount of sugar to it, in addition to a large dollop of honey he dipped in and stirred through the amber liquid. “I need to go get changed, will you make sure he drinks this when he comes out? He has a terrible hangover, so don’t be too loud either.”

“Oh, sure.” Oikawa nodded when he was handed the cup of tea, and their gazes fell on him as he left the kitchen to wander into Hanamaki’s bedroom. Matsukawa had to force his gaze away, lest his thoughts betray him once more.

“Well. He seems…nice.” Iwaizumi murmured the words softly, suddenly uncomfortable about the situation.

“Ah! Kou-chan- Sugawara’s a good friend.” Oikawa began, though he paused for a moment to gather his words. “He helped Hanamaki out a lot in getting a job here last year. He’s been…supportive.” The word was chosen carefully, and both Iwaizumi and Matsukawa looked at him curiously. Neither had the opportunity to question it as the sound of footsteps brought their gaze back to the hallway just in time to see Hanamaki appear around the corner.

With damp skin and wearing only a pair of patterned boxer-briefs that hugged his hips and thighs, it was fair to assume he had indeed just waltzed out of the bathroom. His head was bent low as he rubbed a towel gently against his hair, though he made his way by guiding himself along the wall with one hand to steady himself. Matsukawa’s gaze was drawn down his lean chest and away quickly when he realised where his eyes were wandering.

“Suga-chan, what’s with the noise…?” Hanamaki’s voice was quiet, barely above a hoarse whisper, and he lifted his head to seek out his friend only to blink in surprise when Oikawa placed the cup of tea down in favour of lunging at Hanamaki and hugging him tightly. “F-fuck! Oikawa, shit get off, you’re hurting me!”

“Shut up, you jerk! Stupid jerk!” Oikawa whined as he squeezed Hanamaki tighter and Iwaizumi had to lift a hand to cover his mouth to stifle his laughter at his terrible insult. Oikawa murmured several other insults that were muffled when Hanamaki slammed his palm into his jaw and shoved his chin upward, effectively pushing him back.

“Lower your voice, you prick…!” Hanamaki cursed again as he held up a hand to rub his temple. “The hell are you doing here anyway?”

“You weren’t answering your phone, I was worried! You worried Iwa-chan and Mattsun too, so apologise!” Oikawa scolded him as he grabbed the towel from Hanamaki’s hands and furiously rubbed it against his wet hair, causing Hanamaki to jump away and raise his hands to the back of his neck protectively.

“Jeez, stop! That hurts!” Hanamaki winced as he tentatively touched the back of his neck before sighing and putting his hands on his hips, a flush coming over his cheeks as he looked away from all three of them. “Look, I’m…I’m sorry. I was out with Sugawara so…yeah.”

“You should have at least texted Oikawa to let him know you were okay. Even texting one of us one would have been fine.” Iwaizumi explained and Hanamaki pouted at him, a small hint of anger flashing in his expression before it was extinguished.

“I’m not a child.” Hanamaki spoke firmly, though the words were downplayed by how quiet his voice was. He stomped passed Oikawa to reach for the cup that he had put down, uncaring if it was for him or not, and drank from it greedily, the warm liquid soothing the back of his throat. As he did so, the light caught something at the back of his neck and Matsukawa narrowed his eyes at it.

“Is that…?” Matsukawa murmured the words and Oikawa followed his gaze, his jaw dropping as he stared at it.

“Holy shit!” Oikawa shouted as he reached for the glittering piece of jewellery at the back of his neck. When he touched it, Hanamaki hunched his shoulders and almost dropped the cup he’d been drinking from.

“Don’t touch it, it hurts! Shitty Bastard!” Hanamaki shouted in turn, an act that made his throat burn terribly, and he spun to glare at Oikawa who was shifting to the side to look at it better.

“You got a piercing while drunk?” Oikawa’s brows rose high and he laid his hands on Hanamaki’s shoulders. “You didn’t get a naughty tattoo somewhere too, right? You didn’t do the naughty tattoo yourself?”

“There’s no tattoo, now shut up, seriously.” Hanamaki tightly held onto his cup as he fled the kitchen, once again rubbing his temple and sighing heavily as he mumbled about a headache. Oikawa chased after him, demanding details about the piercing and why he had gotten it, though Hanamaki merely responded childishly that he thought it would make him cool. Matsukawa couldn’t be certain if he was being serious or not as he and Iwaizumi followed the duo into the lounge.

Hanamaki crawled onto the couch, cradling his cup of tea and sipping at it slowly. Matsukawa moved to stand at the back of the couch and gently touched Hanamaki’s shoulders, and feeling a slight guilty pleasure at the way he twitched at the touch.

“Drop your head a little?” He suggested and Hanamaki looked up at him in silence before complying, a flush creeping over his cheeks as he bowed his head and exposed his nape.

It was a single piece that rested directly over his spine. A simple vertical nape piercing with three studs, no doubt having a connecting bar underneath his red and sore skin, and the studs themselves were unequal in size, with the top being the largest and the bottom the smallest and light pink in colour. Matsukawa gently pressed his fingers to the area at the edges, and Hanamaki winced and hunched his shoulders again to duck away from his hands.

“It hurts…!” Hanamaki hissed as he swatted away at his hand and Matsukawa smiled a little at the deep frown tugging at his lips. Event that sort of expression was cute to him.

“Of course it does, it’s a surface piercing. That’ll take forever to heal, you know?” Matsukawa laughed gently as Hanamaki glared up at him childishly.

“What makes you a damn expert?” He continued to pout up at Matsukawa, not noticing in his weary state how close they were until Matsukawa tilted his head away to stand higher above him. The question, however, was left unanswered as the bedroom door clicked open and Sugawara returned to the room. Matsukawa moved enough that Hanamaki could see passed him and his expression twisted into one of shock as he stared at Sugawara, who was exiting his bedroom. “Oi! Those are mine!”

Sugawara jolted in surprise at having been addressed suddenly and looked down at himself. He had borrowed several articles of Hanamaki’s clothing; a dark and textured shirt, a pair of ripped white jeans and a thin jacket that was a little too big on him and slipped away from his slightly freckled shoulders. He crossed his arms over his chest as he stared at Hanamaki, scowling at him, as if daring him to challenge him on it.

“So what? You ruined mine when you threw up on me and then shoved me into the river behind old man Ukai’s place.” Sugawara huffed and glared at him a little. “You can have them back when you buy me new clothes. And underwear, seeing as those reek of vomit even after three washes.”

“Hell no, I’m not buying you a damn thing!” Hanamaki crossed his arms just as defiantly, almost mocking Sugawara as he did so.

“Oh? Then are you going to hand over the four thousand yen you owe me for drinks? Or the seven thousand yen you owe me for covering the cost of your piercing?” Sugawara extended his palm as if demanding payment on the spot. Iwaizumi and Matsukawa shared a surprised look at the figures while Oikawa merely gaped at Hanamaki. “And let’s not forget about the split cost of booking the-”

Hanamaki launched up out of his seat and threw himself over the back of the couch at Sugawara before he could say anything more. His foot caught on the backboard of the sofa however and instead of lunging forward, he pitched towards the ground and slammed against it. Matsukawa could only stare in awe at Hanamaki, who groaned loudly with his face pressed against the hard surface.

Sugawara sighed and kneeled beside him, tilting his head low enough to whisper something unheard by the others into his ear. Hanamaki jolted up at whatever he had said, his face a bright shade of red and his mouth hung open wide, unable to protest.

“Good, now that you’re behaving, I can leave.” Sugawara said and stood and grinned down at him. “There’s a handsome bartender that has my wallet and I intend to collect.”

“You’re a horrible person.” Hanamaki mumbled as he slouched against the backrest of the couch, looking far away from Sugawara as his face continued to burn red, and not just from having face-planted the floor moments ago.

“Takes one to know one, Takahiro.” Sugawara rolled his eyes and headed towards the entryway, pausing long enough to bow his head to Iwaizumi and Matsukawa. “It was nice meeting you two. Be good to him.” The last part of his sentence left them confused, and Sugawara smirked at Matsukawa for a brief moment as he turned and left the apartment without another word.

The apartment was quiet for a while before Hanamaki began to whine about feeling sick and being hungry, a thinly veiled attempt to act as if all of what had happened hadn’t just occurred. Oikawa offered to make him something and quickly headed into the kitchen, with Iwaizumi following after him to help. Matsukawa’s gaze followed the duo as he moved to lean down and sit beside Hanamaki, resting against the backrest of the couch as he did. Hanamaki had bent his head down and was holding his head in his palms, uttering soft whimpers about his hangover and the pain in his neck.

“You okay?” Matsukawa asked him gently, his gaze softening a great deal when he regarded Hanamaki. He gently but thoughtlessly lifted a hand to touch his shoulder and he tried not to smile when Hanamaki jolted at the touch a second time.

“”m fine.” Hanamaki twisted his head away, unable to bring himself to look at him, and was silent for several long moments before he sighed and brought his gaze towards Matsukawa, his nose and mouth buried in the bend of his elbow. “I caused you guys trouble, didn’t I?”

“A little, but maybe we overreacted. You’re not a baby, despite your baby face.”

“I don’t have a baby face…”

“You do. Really badly in fact.”

“Shut up caterpillar brows.”

Matsukawa couldn’t help but snicker at the childish conversation he had gotten himself into, but it didn’t stop him from playfully teasing Hanamaki about being a light-weight in terms of drinking, and making a well-deserved jab at how thin Hanamaki’s brows were, which resulted in him pouting and looking away while slapping at Matsukawa’s arm.

The moment was cut short however when Oikawa called Matsukawa into the kitchen to ask him to go with Iwaizumi to go quickly buy a few things from the convenience store nearby. He handed them a list of things he had quickly scribbled out and they agreed willingly. When they asked why both of them needed to go, Oikawa chalked it up to Iwaizumi not knowing the area well enough to get back, and seeing as Matsukawa had been around before and had a far better sense of direction, it would be better for them to both go.

It was a bad excuse, but when they looked at Oikawa closely, they could see a determined look in his eyes, one that clearly said they needed to leave for a while. Neither Iwaizumi and Matsukawa refused or complained further about it, and left the apartment to do as they were bid. As they headed down the steps, they mumbled about Oikawa maybe wanting to scold Hanamaki for his actions, but both were a little doubtful of that. Matsukawa guided them along the way, leading them back down the street towards the station that hosted a small shopping district for goods and services in the immediate area. When they reached the small commercial zone, Iwaizumi looked at Oikawa’s chicken scrawl handwriting and tried to decipher the name of the store they’d been told to go to, and Matsukawa was able to point it out, remembering that Hanamaki had pointed it out when he was here last.

As they headed down the street though, a familiar face walked out of a small bakery shoved between a video store and a closed up pharmacist. They nearly collided with him as he walked out of the bakery holding a warm cup of coffee and bag of some kind of pastry, and were quick to apologise, but both were surprised when they realised it was Sugawara, who looked no less startled to see them again so soon.

“Well, well, long time no see.” Sugawara greeted them casually, as if they were the best of friends. Matsukawa felt like some higher power was toying with him by forcing him into such a situation, and the smile that came over his face was strained. “What are you two doing around here?”

“Oikawa wanted us to do some shopping for Hanamaki.” Iwaizumi explained and held up the small list they’d been provided with. Sugawara squinted at it and laughed a little.

“And he sent two of you?” A thin eyebrow raised up in a perfect arch and a sly smile tugged at Sugawara’s lips as he looked down at his coffee. “He’s as sharp as ever. Poor Takahiro. Oh well, I suppose someone has to mother him.”

“What do you mean by that?” Iwaizumi asked before Matsukawa could question him on it. The look he received was a knowing one, as if Sugawara held plenty of secrets about the two that had been left in the apartment. Maybe that was indeed the case. Regardless, the envious feeling in Matsukawa’s gut continued to stir and bubble in his chest, and he hated how familiar he was becoming with the sensation.

“Nothing really. Oikawa’s just a worrier. Anyway, since this is really a one-man job,” Sugawara looked at Iwaizumi while gesturing towards Matsukawa with one hand, that strange and a little too friendly smile on his face as he did so, “may I have a moment alone with Matsukawa?”

“What? Why?” Matsukawa was quick to demand an answer as he narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously, not once bothering to conceal the irritation in his voice. The smile he was flashed was a kind but ultimately hollow one.

“I just feel like there’s something we should talk about, that’s all. I promise I won’t take up too much time.” The words were sharp and Matsukawa could see the way he was being glared at under a half lidded gaze.

“Hey, that’s a little-” Iwaizumi was ready to protest but Matsukawa interrupted him.

“It’s fine.” He looked at Iwaizumi firmly, standing his ground as he was sent a worried look. “The store’s just up ahead. I’ll meet you there in a bit.”

Iwaizumi went on his way reluctantly and sent Matsukawa a worried look over his shoulder before he vanished into the corner store to shop. Matsukawa quickly turned his attention back to Sugawara, and was surprised by the cold stare that had suddenly become fixed on his expression. Nothing was said for a little while as Sugawara glared up at him, and Matsukawa noticed the way he held onto his coffee cup and the paper bag of sweets tightly.

“Hanamaki’s a good guy. Stupid and oblivious, but a good guy.” Sugawara spoke the words firmly, as if he were scolding a child. That irked Matsukawa more than he thought it might. “So tell me right now, just what exactly it is you want with him?”

The question surprised him, and when he asked him to clarify, Sugawara told him bluntly that he knew what he was talking about. It was a strange thing, being seen through by someone he had just met. Sugawara’s stare was ice cold but it lit a fire in Matsukawa. It frustrated him that the person in front of him was closer to Hanamaki than he might ever be, for reasons he didn’t know, and for reasons that he knew should be none of his concern. He was beginning to understand what he felt towards Hanamaki, the murky fog that had laid over his emotions was receding, and Sugawara’s presence had only helped to accelerate that.

When he opened his mouth to speak, however, the words died in his throat. He was still unsure, afraid even, of making such a declaration. He still didn’t know Hanamaki that well. Matsukawa didn’t want to bother him with such things if his emotions turned out to be a whim of curiosity or a false sense of comfort.

When he failed to reply, Sugawara scoffed and looked away, glaring furiously to the side.

“If you hurt him with such half-assed intentions, I’m not going to sit back any more.” Sugawara’s words were disparaging, as if he wholly and utterly doubted Matsukawa and he was sent one last cold, almost disdainful look as he shifted to walk around him. “Make sure you get him a banana flavoured milk. It’s his favourite.”

The final comment was simple and unnecessary, but it carried a not-so hidden meaning to it as Sugawara left Matsukawa standing in the street, glaring at the sidewalk at his feet. Sugawara knew Hanamaki well, knew him well enough to be comfortable in his house and take his clothes and know his favourite things and more than Matsukawa would likely ever know about.

The terrible, encompassing feeling of envy burned in his chest, searing his heart and filling his mind with unnecessary things. He wanted to be like that. He wanted to be close with Hanamaki, to know what he liked and disliked, to know about his little habits and to be someone that could be trusted or relied on, much like Oikawa and Sugawara. The desire was ever growing inside him. He wanted that and possibly more, and yet he doubted if he had the will or courage to pursue them, to try and brazenly tell Hanamaki about the feelings that were stirring in his mind.

He replayed Sugawara’s words in his mind like a mantra. It was a challenge, not just between them, but a challenge to himself. He needed to bring himself to a stage where he could confidently say he cared for Hanamaki with affections beyond friendship, or he needed to step down and stop interfering. The latter infuriated him. Perhaps it was childishly competitive, perhaps it was envy, maybe even something else entirely.

He was unable to shake the thoughts from his mind, and he couldn’t bring himself to tell Iwaizumi about what his conversation with Sugawara had been about, though he had promised to explain later when he felt a little more level-headed. Matsukawa thought that the trip back to Hanamaki’s apartment might ease his frayed nerves, but every step of the way his heart clenched and his stomach twisted unpleasantly.

The way Hanamaki greeted them back at the apartment with a soft spoken and warm ‘ _welcome back_ ’ only worsened the feeling, and when the plastic shopping bags were set down on the kitchen counter and he rifled through him, Matsukawa felt that envious twinge in his chest when Hanamaki pulled the small banana flavoured milk drink out of the bag and smiled gleefully.

“Makki-chan, don’t drink that while you’re hungover, you’ll make yourself sick.” Oikawa scolded him and tried to pry the drink away but Hanamaki skipped away to hide behind Matsukawa as he poked the straw through the sealed hole to sip from it greedily.

“No way!” Hanamaki chuckled and grinned up at Matsukawa, as warm and cheerful as could be with how tired he look. “Thanks, Mattsun.”

Matsukawa was quick to offer up a smile as he reached up to ruffle Hanamaki’s hair gently, telling him it was no problem. He was glad Hanamaki had shut his eyes and laughed as he allowed his hair to be tousled since Matsukawa wasn’t sure what expression he himself was making. Oikawa and Iwaizumi said nothing as they slyly gauged the scene from the corner of their eyes.

When he pulled his hand away and Hanamaki left the kitchen to put on some proper clothes, Matsukawa rubbed his hands together unconsciously and hoped his smile wasn’t becoming unpleasant as he stood idly in the kitchen.

‘ _It hurts._ ’ The words repeated in his mind, singing along to the unkind and all too quick beat of his heart.

He could think of nothing that would stop the crushing weight pressing down on his heart, and instead busied himself with helping Oikawa and Iwaizumi with the shopping, all while trying to ignore the gentle and out of tune singing coming from Hanamaki’s bedroom that was forcing a more genuine smile to appear on his face.


	12. A Whim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, been a long as time since I updated this. And look, a new ship to throw in! That wasn't the original intent but hey, why not?
> 
> In any case, hope you've all been well, and enjoy!

Sugawara should have known better.

Since meeting him, the only thing that had really connected him and Hanamaki had been a shared taste in hobbies and a routine of fucking together when they needed to blow off steam.

He’d known that from the very beginning. It didn’t stop him from caring about him, or wanting him to be happy. Sugawara knew he cared for Hanamaki – to what extent, however, had eluded him for some time. He hadn’t seen him in months, barely spoke to him. They were unlikely friends, but friends all the same. Did he want something more than that with him? Or was he feeling a little jealous that his friend was yet another step away from him?

Hanamaki had talked about Matsukawa for some time when they were drinking the previous night; explaining how they met, how lovely his name sounded – ‘ _Issei, Issei…isn’t it nice?_ ’ – and how Matsukawa had one of the nicest smiles in the world, how he felt like he got pins and needles in all his bones when he saw it. Sugawara thought he sounded a little bitter when he called out Hanamaki for how smitten he was.

The train rattled back and forth, swaying him slightly in his seat, and he felt sick in his stomach as he hunched over and he squeezed the now cold cup of coffee in his palms.

Hungover or a little heartbroken?

He couldn’t decide.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to.

Feeling his phone buzzing in his pocket, Sugawara sighed and rubbed his palm hard over his eyes before fished it out of his pocket. The number was unknown, but he recognised it from the voicemail that had been left for him some hours ago.

“Hello?” Sugawara greeted tiredly.

“ _Uh, hi. This is Sugawara Koushi, right?_ ” The voice was deep, warm, and almost nervous in its polite speech. The blurred face of the handsome bartender appeared in the back of his mind. Short cropped hair, a sturdy square jaw and eyes the colour of rich brown earth.

“Yeah, sorry I missed your first call. I was, um…indisposed.” Sugawara couldn’t think of a nicer way to say he was carrying his drunken friend home after being vomited on.

“ _I understand, you and your friend left the bar in quite a state._ ” The quiet laugh echoed in his eardrum and Sugawara smiled despite himself. “ _Ah, sorry. Anyway, you left your wallet at the bar. A few of my co-workers are a little…well, I didn’t want to leave it there. Is there a place I could drop it off to you or mail it to?_ ”

Sugawara made a thoughtful humming noise as he sat up and titled his head to look out the train window, the urban landscape whizzing by far too quickly. “Mailing it will take too long; I need my wallet to commute to work. I’m already risking a fine catching the train without my metro-card.” Sugawara had had to very slyly vault over the gateway to catch the train. There had been no service staff around to see him do it thankfully. “Are you busy at all today?”

“ _Oh, no, not really. I can meet you at Mouri Teien Park if that works?_ ” Sugawara recognised the name. It was in Roppongi, where he and Hanamaki had wound up drinking that evening. A district praised for the nightlife, it had seemed fitting in their drunken mindset. It wasn’t too far from where he was at the moment. It was doable.

“Yeah, that works. Can I call you again when I get there?”

“ _Of course. I’ll wait there for you._ ”

The call ended relatively quickly after Sugawara thanked him for the trouble he was going to just to return his wallet. Sugawara had to switch trains, being doubly careful not to get caught hopping over the ticket gates, to make his way to Roppongi. He wasn’t sure how he had ended up there the night before with Hanamaki, but it wasn’t as if he didn’t know his way around. He’d been there plenty of times in the past to spend his evenings when he was bored or a little lonely. It was highly likely he dragged Hanamaki along after getting kicked out of another bar.

It didn’t take him long to get there, though he made a quick detour to dump the cold and untouched cup of coffee. It took him longer to actually get out of the station, as the service staff were nearby the ticketing gates and he had to wait a while before sneaking over and out of the station itself.

The walk to Roppongi Hills was quick, the warm morning sun peaking high in the sky by the time he got there. There were countless people roaming around and Sugawara made a b-line for the park. Spring had long passed, and with summer coming to an end, the cherry blossoms that floated in the breeze lay dead and dying on the sidewalk, the petals a dull and faded pink and tree branches slowly becoming naked. Once there, he quickly took out his phone to call the bartender back, wandering around the main area of the park with his gaze flicking about. As he lifted his phone, listening to the dial tone ring in his eardrum, his drifting gaze came to a halt.

There he was. Clad in a plain cream shirt with roll up sleeves to expose thick tan forearms with black jeans and boots with loosely tied laces. With the dial tone ringing in his ear, Sugawara watched him pull his phone from his pocket and lift it to his ear with a warm smile on his face.

“ _Hey there, did you get here okay?_ ” It was a strange sensation, seeing him speak at a distance but hearing his voice so clearly in his ear.

“Uh, yeah, I think I’m looking at you. Just wanted to make sure.” Sugawara easily explained and the bartenders’ smile faltered as he looked around, seeking him out. He did a double take when his gaze fell on Sugawara, several metres away, and that brilliant toothy smile lit up his face once more.

Sugawara heard the call disconnect as the bartender hung up and approached him, standing no more than a few centimetres taller when he was only a few feet away, but he was far broader than Sugawara could ever hope to be. With broad, muscled shoulders and a straight posture, he looked far more imposing up close, but that gentle smile did legions to make him seem more affable.

“Hey, um…yeah.” He laughed, the smile widening more and creating small dimples in his cheek. It was intoxicating and Sugawara couldn’t help but smile back.

“Sorry, I–uh, I didn’t get your name.” The thought quickly occurred to him. A look of confusion appeared on the bartender’s face before his eyes widened a little and he bowed his head in an apologetic fashion.

“Ahh, shit, sorry! I’m Dai–sorry, Sawamura Daichi. Daichi is fine, though.” He quickly corrected himself, introducing himself in a more formal but awkward way, and laughter bubbled in Sugawara’s chest.

“Daichi,” the name rolled off the tongue, a pleasant ring to it, “I believe you have something of mine?”

Daichi nodded as he reached into the other pocket of his jeans, revealing Sugawara’s leather wallet and the old charms that dangled from the zipper. “I had to look through it to find your ID. I was relieved to find a business card in there with your number.” Reaching for his wallet, their fingers just barely brushing, he froze and tilted his head to fix him with a confused stare.

“Business card? Oh.” It took Sugawara a moment to realise what he was referring to. When he had gone back to the studios for study, he’d gone and made a few personal business cards for making appointments with potential customers who wanted tattooing work done. “I haven’t used many of them, I’m glad they came in handy though.”

Daichi raised a brow at him, a genuinely curious look on his face. “So, you’re a tattoo artist then?”

“Yeah, I just went back to study at a tattooing studio.” Sugawara smiled at him and fiddled with the edges of his wallet after taking it from him. “I wanted to expand my arsenal, I guess.”

“Can I keep the card then?” The question took him utterly by surprise. Staring at him in a muted shock, Daichi realised the vague statement he’d made and, once again, was quick to correct himself. “Sorry, I meant– I’ve been thinking about getting a tattoo for a while now, but I don’t know a lot about the industry and– I sound really stupid, don’t I?” With a flustered grin, Daichi looked down at his feet and rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

It was rather cute, and Sugawara was quick to laugh and smile again. “No, no, just abrupt is all. It’s refreshing, really.”

“Sorry.” Daichi was awfully quick to apologise, but he lifted his head slightly and flashed him that warm and welcoming smile.

“It’s fine, but if you don’t have anything planned, why don’t we get something to eat and talk about it?” Sugawara took a cautious step forward, hunching his shoulders to be slightly lower and grin up at him. “I owe you for returning my wallet after all.”

“Oh– no, really, that’s not necessary–”

“Wrong! It is. I won’t feel good about any of this if you don’t accept at least one muffin or cup of coffee.”

They argued pointlessly for a few minutes before Daichi finally agreed to his line of thinking. Sugawara told him to lead the way, being relatively unfamiliar with Roppongi’s more tame venues, and the two engaged in a light conversation on the walk towards the main street. At first the conversation steered towards whether or not Sugawara and Hanamaki had gotten home safely the night before, and it took the whole trip to the café for Sugawara to explain how he’d been vomited on and abruptly pushed into the knee deep stream to ‘ _clean up_ ’ as Hanamaki suggested.

Daichi did his best to muffle the sound of his laughter as Sugawara spun the tale, and after some choice words and a pout, he quickly stopped but his grin remained intact.

When Sugawara took a moment to look at his surroundings, he could tell they had moved into a more commercial area. The streets were lined with shopfronts and the sidewalk was thick with a crowd and the two of them made an effort to avoid bumping into people. Eventually, Daichi pointed them towards a café and promptly made their way in.

The café itself had an amiable atmosphere. All polished wood floors with stylish trimmings on the grey textured walls, and with small round tables lined with red patterned stools that added more warmth and colour to the shop.

“Oi, Daichi!” A loud voice called out, and one of the wait staff quickly approached from the middle of the café floor to grin down at him. Taller and leaner in comparison with Daichi, the waiter had golden catlike eyes under a mop of messy black hair. That sharp gaze quickly fell on Sugawara, who stood behind Daichi, and a sly grin quickly appeared on the man’s face. “Oh? On the rebound already?”

“Kuroo.” The name was growled, low and deep in the back of Daichi’s throat, and Sugawara had the perfect view of the waiter’s physical reaction.

Head reeling back, body twisting as he spun on his feet, and lips pursing into a tight, increasingly amused smile despite a panicked look in his eyes. “Two coffees, on the house.” He added as he darted behind the counter, where a shorter staff member was looking at him with an accusing gaze. Sugawara was able to catch their conversation as Daichi ushered him to follow, the two passing the counter on their way to an empty table.

“Pain-in-the-ass-Kuroo-san, are you disturbing customers again?”

“Akaashi, did you just–”

“I said, are you disturbing our customers again, Kuroo-san?”

“You little shit…”

Sugawara snickered into his hand as he followed Daichi, smiling widely when Daichi pulled out his chair for him before sitting himself opposite him. The flush that crossed his cheeks when Sugawara called him a gentlemen was a sight to say the least.

“Friends of yours?” Sugawara asked as he sneaked a look over his shoulder at the counter. Kuroo was glowering at the staff member – Akaashi – that had called him out while starting a new brew of coffee to blend. Akaashi didn’t seem the least bit phased as he moved into the kitchen area that he could only see into through a long rectangular hole in the wall where food was passed between.

Daichi followed his gaze, narrowed eyes squaring at Kuroo once more, and promptly softening when Sugawara looked back. “Something like that.” He said quickly. “Kuroo and I attend the same university, and we were sharing a dorm in our first year.”

“Oh? So why the pained expression?” it was clear there was a story behind the brief comment, judging by the way Daichi seemed to cringe upon bringing it up.

“Are you in university?”

“Not anymore, no, but I studied arts and art history for two years.”

“Imagine your first year, but with that smug face, constant sarcasm, and being the victim of weekly pranks.”

“Ah, so that explains your whole sexy, tortured look.”

Daichi choked on a laugh, his hand flying up to hide the grin tugging at his lips.

Sugawara didn’t have long to indulge in the sight, as Akaashi appeared close as his side with a pen and docket pad in hand, asking for their orders. Daichi claimed his usual, a sweetened iced coffee, and Sugawara was quick to order a long black, preferring his coffee to be strong and rather bitter. Akaashi smiles a little, saying that the choice was unexpected but padded back towards the counter in short order.

“So,” Sugawara began as he looked back at Daichi, “what kind of tattoo are you thinking about? Any style in particular?”

“Uh– that’s, well, I’ve thought about it but I haven’t thought about a design or style or, or meaning or…anything actually important in this sort of conversation, crap…” Halfway through his reply, Daichi lowered his head into his hands to rub his temples, the now familiar flustered blush creeping up on tan cheekbones.

Another warm, throaty laugh left Sugawara’s throat. The way he was replying so honestly and in such an embarrassed manner was almost endearing. “It doesn’t have to have any special meaning.” As he said this, Sugawara straightened in his seat and lifted the sleeve of his shirt up a little more, exposing the dotted and spiralled designs cascading down pale skin into the heavy ink in rings around his wrists. “A friend designed these on a whim for me, and I thought they looked incredible so I got them done.” He continued with a smile. “It doesn’t have to have any special meaning or be dedicated to someone. If you think it might be cool, then why not?”

A moment of silence fell over them as Daichi leaned his forearms onto the table, eyes downcast in thought as he twiddled this thumbs.

With a small huff and a wide smile, Sugawara reached across the small circular tabletop and took the back of one of Daichi’s hands, twisting his wrist slowly to expose his inner forearm.

“What–”

“Right here,” Sugawara pressed his fingertips lightly to the skin, the flesh warm to the touch, and he lightly dragged his filed nails over the area, “is a nice place for any tattoo. Something you can look down at and smile when you see it in the corner of your eye.”

There was another moment of silence as Daichi sat stiffly in front of him, his gaze falling on the hand drawing an invisible pattern onto his arm. The moment faded when Sugawara peeled his hands away just as Akaashi returned with their orders, placing them neatly between them before wandering off to serve another table.

Sugawara picked up his cup of coffee and grinned at Daichi behind the rim of it. “Think about it, okay?”

“Yeah…yeah, okay.” Daichi nodded slowly as he reached for his own drink, his fingers sliding on the thin layer of condensation on the outside of the glass.

Sugawara picked up the conversation from there, leading into boring topics that produced interesting facts. He learned very quickly that Daichi was studying veterinary sciences, with the hopes of working with domestic animals at a local vet. The idea of such a broad man coddling small and injured animals brought a tender smile to his face, and it remained there as Daichi told him of his study and work as a bartender. They spoke continuously, pausing only to drink their coffee in between words, and Sugawara made a conscious effort to avoid staring at the way Daichi licked his lower lips after each sip of the iced coffee.

Sugawara made an off-hand comment how it seemed almost fitting that Daichi be studying so earnestly and yet be working on the brink of the seedy nightlife. While they both got a giggle out of it, what made them laugh most was the way Kuroo – who had been delivering orders across the floor, doubled over in laughter as he walked by their table and was promptly shoved into the kitchen for causing a ruckus.

They sat for an hour or more, sharing little details about their individual work and study, with Daichi being almost mesmerised by the way Sugawara explained the subdued bustle of a tattooing studio. Eventually Kuroo wandered back to their table, cleaning up their dishes and throwing out a comment about what freeloaders they were and to order again or flitter off somewhere else. Daichi kicked his shin under the table and shooed him away, sending him away in mock agony.

With a laugh, Sugawara explained that he should probably head back home, lest he invite Daichi’s friend to cause him more grief.

Daichi agreed almost begrudgingly, and they left the café in tandem, with Daichi trailing behind and slowing enough to shot daggers at Kuroo who had begun to make a lewd gesture with a curled hand while poking his tongue against the corner of his mouth with the right timing.

The sound of Kuroo yelping as he was slapped on the back of the head by Akaashi was undermined by the chiming of the bell of their heads as they left the café completely, and Daichi began to escort Sugawara back towards the station, neither really thinking on it as they talked more.

By the time the station was within sight, their pace slowed almost to a crawl, the two of them casually sauntering forward as they indulged in their conversation. The longer he spoke with Daichi, the lighter he felt, the more forgotten the half-hearted woes of the morning became.

“I have to go this way now, so I guess I’ll…see you around?” Daichi spoke awkwardly, a nervous edge to his words.

Sugawara’s gaze softened as he tilted his head up slightly, smiling at him under lidded eyes. “Yeah. You have my card, so…call me if you think of something, okay?”

“Yeah. Will do.” Daichi nodded as he tucked his thumbs into his pockets, his fingers twitching slightly as his gaze was locked with Sugawara’s intently.

Sugawara tried to place the expression hidden beyond the warm smile he’d been shown all of that morning. Was it simply awkwardness? Or the spark of an impulsive whim? He wondered if that expression mirrored his own.

When Sugawara took a step back towards the station, his gaze still locked with Daichi’s, he saw him flinch for a moment, a twitch of fingers, and something twinged in his gut.

An impulsive whim encouraged him to tilt the weight of his foot back forward, pitching him into Daichi’s personal space as a hand flew up to fall on his chest. The soft touch of lips was instant and unexpected, with Sugawara himself unsure what had spurred him on. As he pulled away, he felt Daichi tilt forward, pressing into the kiss as his hands wrapped around his forearms and kept him in place.

Uncaring of the public display, they kissed on such a whim, lips moving over one another as a tongue was snaked across the edge of Daichi’s mouth. Sugawara could taste the faded sweetness of coffee on his tongue as he pulled back properly this time, eyes fluttering slightly as he breathed out slowly. Daichi inhaled his breath, the soft exhaling sigh warm against Sugawara’s cheeks.

“I’ll call you…” Daichi breathed out after a moment, his palms sliding across Sugawara’s forearms before falling to his sides.

“Mhm…” Sugawara sucked his lower lip into his mouth, once again taking that step back but with more intent this time around. “Call anytime. Really.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Daichi nodded, understanding the obvious hint, and cleared his throat when Sugawara bid him farewell and disappeared into the station.

His mind was a blur of all things as he waited for the train that would take his home, his tongue rolling over his lip every so often and taking away the last of the lingering sweetness there. He felt his phone buzz against his thigh, and pulling it out, saw a single text left from Hanamaki.

‘ _Hey there superstar, you get your wallet?_ ’

With a bitter smile and a laugh, Sugawara shook his head as he typed out a quick reply as the distant hiss of trains brakes grew louder.

‘ _Yep. With interest_.’

Sugawara had barely stepped onto the train when his phone buzzed in his palm, but he waited until he was seated before looking at it again. The text brought another bitter smile to his face, though it was more genuine the second time around.

‘ _You sly dog._ ’

With a throaty laugh that made his chest shake, Sugawara rolled his eyes and stuff his phone back into his pocket and stared out at the window as the train rolled out of the station. Maybe Hanamaki was right.

If he was…

It would be interesting, to say the least.


	13. A Casual Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's literally been _four goddamn months_ since I last updated this story..i'm a sham..a charlatan.. I actually uploaded this yesterday but for whatever reason it didn't appear in the search results for the pairing so I'm re-uploading. Lots of reasons for the slow update but I won't get into it I'm super tired rn asdfgh I hope this posts correctly this time
> 
> But! It's an update! AH! What a surprise! Here's hoping I can manage my time properly to update and get more chapters out at a steadier pace. This chapter focuses more on Daichi/Sugawara since it's been a while and I needed to get back in the swing of things.
> 
> Anyways, so sorry for the long delay and I hope you enjoy!

The early break of dawn was a peaceful time. People were just starting to wake up, readying themselves for the day. Others were already on their way, some even only now just returning home as the sun reared its head over the horizon ever so slowly.

Most of the streets were empty and the streetlights still on, if only just. The fluorescent lighting on the pavement slowly faded into obscurity with the morning sunlight that stretched across every available surface. Running along the shaded footpath by the road, Daichi was thankful for the row of trees along the sidewalk that shielded his eyes from the sun’s menacing glare. The thin beams of light that pierced the canopy flashed over on side of his face and made him tilt his head away. His skin was flushed with sweat, chest rising and falling steadily as his feet padded against the cement pavement with the cord of his headphones bouncing against his sternum.

The morning run was familiar and routine, something that he dedicated himself to with his often erratic work schedule. A half hour of down-time before the day began. It was more than enough for him.

As he ran along the path, quickly approaching a crossroads, a figure stood bouncing in place. Daichi recognised him immediately. The short and tussled black hair was pushed back and held in place with a headband and several ‘ _one-hundred percent necessary_ ’ clips, all of which had been bought by Daichi as a playful joke. Daichi plucked one of his earbuds out and let it hang over his chest, and when he got close, the figure began to jog forward ahead of him. He was able to catch up in a several swift strides, and soon they were running side by side.

“Morning Kuroo,” Daichi greeted with a huff as maintained his pace. Kuroo ran at his side, easily matching his strides, though his longer legs would allow him to overtake him quickly if he put in the extra effort.

“Morning,” Kuroo replied and he lifted a hand to brush a few stray stands of hair out of his eyes. The clips that held his hair back seemed to have been put in hastily, and he grumbled as he opted to ignore them for the moment.

“Having trouble there princess?” Daichi grinned when Kuroo shot him a glare.

“None whatsoever, thank you very much!” he huffed and lifted his nose in the air, feigning offence.

“Then keep up,” with those words Daichi sprinted off ahead to clear the final stretch towards the park. Kuroo cursed his name and chased after him. Kuroo was able to reach him, but he lacked the same endurance Daichi had, and quickly fell behind again while Daichi maintained his rhythm.

They reached the park in a few short minutes, racing under the shaded trees towards an open area for recreation. A few people were already in the park; some were jogging and walking their dogs, others were preforming yoga with a group in the middle of a clearing slowly being illuminated by the sun.

Daichi slowed his pace until he reached a familiar vacant spot under a large tree and carefully lowered into a crouch before allowing himself to flop down on his back. Kuroo, who had been close at his heels the rest of the way, threw himself down beside him with a loud huff. One of his arms fell wide to the side and Daichi smacked it aside before it haphazardly connected with his jaw. Stretching out their legs, they relaxed for a moment before beginning a few cool down stretches, but not before Kuroo roughly but playfully elbowed Daichi’s side.

Once they had stretched and finished jabbing each other in the ribs, Daichi shucked the back-pack that had been strapped tightly around his upper body and fished out two water bottles he had readied before leaving that morning. He handed one to Kuroo, who thanked him for it, and he drank from it greedily as he stared at the group of strangers preforming yoga in the clearing.

“Is Bokuto skipping today?” Daichi asked after taking a long swig from his water bottle. He pressed it to the side of his neck after capping it, sighing at the cold condensation that touched his skin. Bokuto was a friend of Kuroo’s, and while he was loud and otherwise a little too exuberant, Daichi enjoyed his enthusiasm and his company regardless. It had become natural for the three of them to meet up in the morning after a run to catch up before the day’s events panned out.

“Yeah,” Kuroo replied with a soft huff as his breath slowly evened out. “Apparently there was some trouble at the bar last night. He was up late talking to police so he crashed at Terushima’s.”

“The police? Is he okay?” Daichi’s brows furrowed as he asked the question, his voice immediately full of concern.

“Yeah, he’s fine. A brawl just got out of hand and he had to answer some questions is all,” Kuroo said and Daichi sighed in relief. He was no stranger to that situation, having been in it once or twice himself. It was an experience he would not wish on anyone, least of all Bokuto, whose mood was subject to constant outside influence.

“Are you meeting him for lunch today?” he asked and Kuroo nodded as he quickly explained Bokuto would visit their university campus when he left Terushima’s apartment. “Ask him if he wants me to cover his shift tonight. It’d be better for him to take a day off.”

“I’ll run it by him, sure. He sounded pretty run down when I spoke to him last night too, but Terushima said he’d look after him so I’m sure he’ll be okay.” Kuroo took a quick sip from his water bottle before resting it against his knees. “Anyway, how’d you go the other day?”

“Hm? With what?” Daichi asked over the mouth of the water bottle as he went to sip from it again. Kuroo grinned at him as he leaned forward to hug his knees. The smirk on his face and the soft snigger that erupted from his throat deeply unsettled him.

“That guy you brought to the café,” Kuroo said and made a show of shifting his eyebrows up and down. “I was talking to Bokuto about him and he told me he’d seen him at the bar.”

Sometimes Daichi regretted mentioning that job opening at the bar to Bokuto. With a faint blush dusting his cheekbones, he pointedly looked away.

“It went fine,” he said curtly and made a quiet noise of surprise when he felt Kuroo lean his weight heavily against his side.

“You really need to widen your vocabulary, Daichi,” Kuroo rubbed his head against Daichi’s shoulder and more of his hair slipped free from the headband and clips. Daichi rolled his eyes and pushed his hand against Kuroo’s head to shove him off. “Have you talked to him since?”

“No…” he replied with a small sigh and rubbed the back of his neck. It had been a little over a week since he’d met Sugawara for the second time; the first having been the night prior at the bar.

Most of what they had talked about at the time had faded from memory; his mind holding onto only the most basic facts about his work and some hobbies he enjoyed. More than that, he remembered the tender smile that bloomed into a grin with a soft chuckle and the tender feeling of fingertips brushing over Daichi’s wrist. The brief kiss they had shared had been something that remained as well. His lips had been soft, tasting of bitter coffee, and Daichi bit down on his lip as he recalled the way it had made his stomach twist.

Kuroo watched his face intently, the smirk on his face turning into a softer, more genuine smile. “Well, I say go for it.”

“Still sorting out my last relationship, but thanks for your inspirational words,” Daichi replied with a smirk of his own and Kuroo hunched his shoulders.

“Ah, right. How’s that going?” he asked hesitantly.

“It’s…well, you know. It’s kind of bittersweet. I’m meeting Yui after class so she can pick up some more of her things,” Daichi explained and leaned back until he was lying on the grass once more. He stared upward at the sky full of slow moving clouds through the treetop above. The soft yellows and pinks of the sunrise faded into an endless azure as time passed quickly.

Michimiya Yui had been a childhood friend of his, and had been his girlfriend for the last year until quite recently. The early part of their relationship had been full of tender smiles and soft kisses on the couch, but very rarely did anything go beyond simple skin-ship. The few times it had had been awkward and fumbling experiences, and they had a just as many hesitant conversations about it. Over time it had occurred to them that neither of them knew how to go beyond that stage of friendship fully and wholeheartedly, and they’d spent some time apart to give it thought and came to a mutual understanding of where they stood.

“You feeling okay?” Kuroo nudged his leg with his knee, and Daichi shifted his gaze to look at Kuroo sitting beside him. The expression on his face was tight; nothing more than pursed lips and furrowed brows. As much of a schemer as he was, Kuroo was a true friend, through and through.

“Yeah, I’m okay. We’re okay,” he gave Kuroo a reassuring smile, a little touched by his concern. Kuroo’s smile soon returned as well, though Daichi could still see slightest glimmer of worry in his eyes.

“Well, I guess we better get going before we fall asleep in the grass again,” Kuroo laughed as he stood up and shifted to lean over Daichi with both hands outstretched towards him.

Daichi grinned as he grabbed onto his forearms. Kuroo’s fingers curled around his own and he was lifted off the ground easily. “Yeah, I’d rather not have to chase ducks to get my headphones back”

Walking side by side, the two began the short trek towards their university. Part of their routine involved Daichi using the dorm showers after a run before the morning classes. He was familiar with the facilities, having used them before having moved out of the dorms earlier that year to live with Yui. He often left a few changes of clothes in Kuroo’s dorm, since he hadn’t left at the end of their first year unlike Daichi. It also made it easier for him to crash on days he felt particularly tired and didn’t have work in the evening.

The rest of the morning went by quickly, with Kuroo and Daichi grabbing a small bite to eat before they parted ways to attend their own classes.

Daichi’s classes of the day consisted of a lecture and an extended laboratory class immediately after, where what they had learned was immediately put into practice – or rather, expanded on in more detail and then discussed on a deeper level. The classes started early in the morning, an unfortunate time slot for any unaccustomed to rising when the sun did, but it also meant that Daichi finished just after noon.

Stepping out of the air-conditioned building and into what was the sweltering heat of a hot summer’s day, Daichi tugged at the loose collar of his shirt as he crossed the campus grounds to reach the front of the university. A few of the walkways were sheltered by thick canopied trees, allowing him a brief respite from the sun’s heat. His shoulders were smattered with shifting shadows and patches of sunlight that shone through the leaves and onto the footpath. The gentle breeze blowing through the grounds was cooler in the shade at least.

Being mindful he would not be walking into other students, Daichi pulled his phone from his pocket and swiped across the faintly cracked screen to check his messages. The damage wasn’t too bad, just a small crack at the top of his screen, so he hadn’t bothered to repair it as of yet. Yui had sent him a text in class that she was waiting at the bus stop in front of the university, but he hadn’t been able to check it until now.

He didn’t bother replying, not when he was almost at the front gates where students sauntered through sluggishly. The bus stop was only a few quick strides to his right, and peeking around the edge he quickly found Yui sitting under the shelter on the thin metal bench. Her head was bent low, hands held close on her lap as she rapidly tapped the buttons of a PSP-console. Daichi simply grinned as he leaned against the wall of the bus stop, watching quietly as Yui played what appeared to be a dungeon crawling game of sort nature. Judging by the way her brow furrowed and she sucked her lower lip into her mouth and bit down on it, the level was becoming increasingly difficult.

Not wanting to bother her, at least at the moment, Daichi pulled out his phone and absentmindedly scrolled through one of the social media apps he had on his phone. Kuroo and Bokuto had both sent him messages; the gist of them being that Bokuto would be thankful if Daichi took his shift in the evening. Bokuto even made a bold promise that he would repay Daichi with as many servings of shoyu ramen as he could handle in a single sitting. Daichi smiled as he sent a reply telling Bokuto to inform their boss about the shift change before the evening came around.

In the corner of his eye, he could see Yui starting to rise out of her seat. Not because she had finished her level though. A quick look at the PSP’s screen revealed an intense battle against a creature he assumed to be a level boss, with multiple damage notifications popping up across the screen and fading just as quickly. Unable to keep quiet any longer, Daichi’s grin widened as he let out a quiet laugh.

Hearing his laugh, Yui had an immediate light-bulb moment where she realised she was out in public. Already out of her seat, her back straightened as quick as snapping a rubber band. Her face had turned a soft shade of pink as she paused the game and looked at Daichi, lips pursed with an obvious look of embarrassment on her face. The PSP was tucked tightly against her chest as she stared him down, as if hoping it might disappear on its own under her palms.

“So, were you winning?” Daichi couldn’t help but ask.

Yui’s expression shifted in the moment, a pout quickly forming on her lips as regarded him. “Not really. I’ve been trying since last night,” she explained and the pink tinge to her cheeks disappeared. Looking down, and noticing the low battery icon flashing, Yui sighed and flicked off the device. “I’ll try again later, otherwise I’ll pop a blood vessel.”

“Let’s go, then?” phrased more like a question than a statement, Daichi cocked his head to the side and Yui nodded, quickly tucking the portable console into a practically empty duffel bag as she stepped up to walk beside him.

Daichi was grateful to live within a comfortable walking distance of his university, but the sooner he got out of the heat, the better he would be for it. Yui too, as her bare shoulders were already beginning to warm a faint red. Daichi sighed and quickly reminded her to rub some aloe into her skin later. She was dressed in a pale yellow sundress, the edges patterned with a flowery pattern that faded into the colour of the dress and a simple brown belt cinched her waist nicely. Her sandals scrapped against the cement footpath but she almost skipped alongside him; her step full of pep and vigour despite the heat.

“So, I take it you’re settling in nicely?” Daichi grinned as he tucked his hands into his pockets.

Yui’s smile brightened, her cheeks flushing lightly. “Yep, sure am!” that same smile softened gently when she regarded him more seriously, but none of her gleeful attitude was lost. “Thanks for introducing me to Shimizu. She’s been really sweet and helpful.”

“I’m glad you two are getting along,” he said with a soft sigh and a smile. When they had broken up, their first concern had been where Yui might stay. She insisted on moving out, knowing that living together after the break-up might strain their friendship, though Daichi had thought it wouldn’t be too much trouble until she found a place to stay. Shimizu, who worked at the bar with him and had overheard him talking to Kuroo about it one evening, had offered to let Yui use the spare room at her apartment for as long as was needed.

Daichi introduced the two the day after to let them discuss the details, and over the last fortnight, it had panned out rather well for the two of them from what he heard. Yui took care of a lot the meals for Shimizu, who worked a few jobs at varying times during the week in addition to study, which meant she had been able to dedicate a little more time to some much needed sleep. Shimizu had returned the favour by taking care of Yui’s rent and board and picking her up from work late in the evening whenever she was able, or arranging for close friends to walk her home. From what Daichi knew about Shimizu’s circle of acquaintances, there were a few among them that were intimidating enough to scare off anyone planning ill for a young woman walking home.

Daichi had tried to help where he could, but the two of them had seemed to have a good handle of things on their own. It left him feeling oddly left out, but it didn’t bother him in any serious way. He was mostly glad for the company they kept each other. Shimizu was a quiet woman but not unsociable, and Yui’s warm and affable personality was welcome in her docile home.

They spent half an hour navigating narrow side-streets along a hillside, just barely avoiding a few clearly late students rushing along the sidewalk, until they reached Daichi’s apartment complex. The exterior was nothing fancy, all chipped rails and concrete walls with a stone flourish to give it some texture. There were at least a half-dozen similar building in the area. His apartment itself was nothing grand; the hallway upon entry divided the kitchen from the bathroom and laundry area before leading into the living area, where a door off to the side left ajar exposed the bedroom. Aside from scattered textbooks and open notepads, the living area was fairly tidy. A screen door opened to the balcony, small and just enough to squeeze in two people comfortably.

Daichi kept a small collection of succulents out there where the sun would touch them, knowing full well that keeping them indoors wouldn’t be quite enough. Unable to keep pets in the complex, plants were the next best thing, but he hadn’t the time for anything high maintenance with his schedule. He had three small echeveria’s, with thick leaves of pale greens and purples, and each one with a small blank label on its pot. Daichi had been _advised_ to name them, but he hadn’t thought of anything as of yet, so he simply left the labels blank for the time being.

Yui, just as familiar with the complex as he was, confidently hopped up the steps ahead of him and sauntered towards one of the apartments on the upper level. She gently teased Daichi, asking if he had kept up with his washing after she had moved out and Daichi laughed as he unlocked the door.

“Your opinion of me has lowered considerably, huh?” he raised a brow at her as he stepped in and toed his shoes off at the door.

“Isn’t that normal after a break-up?” Yui jested with a soft laugh as she knelt to unclip her sandals.

Daichi merely rolled his eyes with a quiet snigger as he shucked his bag by the couch. Yui walked into the living area of the apartment moments after and looked towards the corner of the living room, where a few boxes had been neatly packed and set aside for collection later.

“Wow, I thought I had more to go than that,” Yui admitted aloud and lifted one of the boxes. It was light, and rattled gently with the sound of sliding DVD cases and knick-knacks that had been carefully packed with bubble-wrap and scrunched up newspaper.

“You still have half a closet of clothes to take,” Daichi happily reminded her with a smirk. Yui’s face paled a little as it occurred to her.

“Ah, right…” less excited, Yui lowered the box and headed to the bedroom with a grim look on her face. “Better get started.”

“Good luck,” Daichi winked at her as she disappeared into the bedroom to begin packing the last of her clothes to take with her.

With a quick look at the clock, Daichi smiled a little. Shimizu would be coming by within the hour to help Yui take the last of her things to their shared home. It would leave him with enough time get in some quick study and relax before taking Bokuto’s shift in the evening.

He settled himself into the corner of the small loveseat couch he had and pried his laptop out of his bag to do the readings for his class that had been posted online. There were only a few, but each had more than a dozen pages, so the faster he got through them the better.

He could hear Yui rifling around the bedroom, mumbling to herself about maybe throwing a few of her old blouses out since she hardly wore them. Once she poked her head of the door waving one of his sweatshirts around asking if she could keep it. Daichi, not looking back, made a low humming noise in acceptance. He knew the one she was talking about; it was a dark maroon V-neck sweater that was quite form fitting on Daichi. On Yui, she was lucky if it didn’t slip right off both her shoulders, but she had always enjoyed wearing it on lazy afternoons and Daichi saw no reason not to let her have it. She’d worn it more than he ever had, and he was unlikely to put it on anytime soon given the current weather.

Halfway through his second reading, Daichi could feel his phone vibrating against his thigh. He slid his laptop off his lap to pull it out and, assuming it was Shimizu due to the time, he answered it quickly.

“Hey Kiyoko, how far off are you?” he asked the question as he brought the phone up to his ear.

“ _Oh? Expecting company?_ ” the voice that filled his ear was soft-spoken and smooth, but sharply masculine. Far too deep to be Shimizu, Daichi recognised the voice after a moment of thought. He could almost imagine the playful smirk the silver haired tattoo artist might have had on his face.

“Sugawara…” the name rolled of his tongue as lovely as the first time, and his cheeks warmed against his will when he remembered the kiss once more. He shook it from his mind quickly as he sat up straight, his head bowing down as he spoke into the receiver. “I uh…sort of, but I can talk. How are you?”

Had his voice cracked just then? He hoped it hadn’t. The light chuckle that ghosted past his eardrum didn’t convince him it hadn’t.

“ _You didn’t call,_ ” Sugawara’s voice carried a playful edge as he ignored the question – not out of annoyance, he could tell, rather an eagerness to move the conversation beyond small talk quickly. Daichi felt his stomach twist and he chewed on the inside of his lip at the idea. “ _I was wondering if you’d given some thought to a tattoo design_.”

“Oh…oh!” Daichi thoughtlessly murmured into the receiver. He couldn’t stop the awkward chuckle that left his throat. He was calling about the tattoo. He was a tattoo artist, so it made sense. At least, that was the thought he repeated in his mind. “I have but I haven’t really–”

“Daichi, I can’t find my laced–” Yui had emerged from the bedroom to ask him something, and for once, Daichi had been glad for all of Kuroo’s pranks in their first year at university. It allowed him the quick reflexes that were utterly unnecessary in such a situation. The moment he had registered her voice, Daichi lunged for a cushion beside him and hurled it towards the bedroom door. Yui yelped loudly and he waved his hand almost frantically to shoo her back into the room.

“ _My, my, what fun you’re getting up to. It’s not even noon._ ” Daichi’s face burned a deep shade of red that those words, and Yui regarded him curiously for a moment before a wide grin took her features. She winked at him before tiptoeing back to the bedroom, the smirk still firmly in place.

Knowing full well she was going to eavesdrop – she was curious to a fault sometimes – Daichi hauled himself out of his seat to step out onto the balcony. “No, it’s not like that,” he began as he slid the glass door shut behind him. He hadn’t the slightest idea how to explain himself in the moment. The sound of Sugawara’s humorous sniggers in his ear distracted him in his already embarrassed state.

“ _I can call back when you’re done if you like?_ ” the question was light-hearted and teasing, but it made Daichi’s face flush even more.

“No, no! It’s fine, really, she’s just picking up some of her things,” Daichi blurted the words out faster than he had wanted to. His fevered voice betrayed the calm disposition he had hoped to maintain.

“ _A one-night stand then? I didn’t think you the type…_ ” he didn’t sound displeased with the idea, and remembering how forward he’d been in their last meeting, Daichi quickly caught the subtle meaning behind those words.

“I– she’s my girlfriend– _ex_ -girlfriend,” Daichi stressed the word quickly, hoping to dispel the playful assumptions Sugawara had been making in as few words as possible, “anyway, about the tattoo, that you called about, I have been thinking about it.” A half-truth. He’d only had a few vague ideas, nothing entirely solid. But he was more than happy to bullshit his way through whatever in the moment if only to keep him from giving any thought to the current situation and perhaps misunderstanding something.

“ _Excellent! I have a proposition for you then_.” That caught Daichi off guard, but it gave him a moment to calm down after having thoroughly embarrassed himself. “ _The studio I’m with is having something of an open-day to showcase some work by the artists. I thought it might be a good opportunity to get you better acquainted with the industry._ ”

Daichi vaguely remembered admitting his uncertainty with the tattoo industry the last time they spoke. That Sugawara had even remotely kept that in mind was impressive.

“Will some of your work be on display?” Daichi asked as he leaned against the rail in front of him. It was hot under his forearm and he peeled away quickly to lean against the shaded wall instead.

“ _A few pieces, but not a whole lot. I’ve already got experience in the workplace so it’s just extra endorsement for me really,_ ” Sugawara explained. The small smile that had worked its way onto Daichi’s face faltered a little.

“Oh. That makes sense.” He couldn’t think of much else to say in reply. The sound of a motorcycle roaring in the distance, edging ever closer, interrupted his thoughts further. “That’s a shame.”

“ _If you’re that curious, I can bring one of my sketch folios with me,_ ” Sugawara’s voice carried a softness to it that made it so calming to listen to. Smooth like polished jade; it was beautiful in its own right. “ _It’s nothing overly fancy but it has a lot of my recent commission work in it. So…I’ll take your interest as a yes? To coming– attending the exhibition, that is._ ”

The childish snigger that Daichi let out was just that. Childish, and the flustered whining sound from the other end of the receiver encouraged him to stifle his laughter quickly. “S-sorry. But yeah, I’d like to go.”

“ _Great! I’ll text you the details in a moment then; I know it’s on all weekend so whenever you’re available then is fine._ ” It sounded like Sugawara was shuffling through papers. Daichi assumed he was looking at the information at that very moment.

Daichi thought for a moment about his schedule. He was covering Bokuto’s shift tonight, so he could swap out one of his weekend shifts as a fair trade. Having a whole weekend to himself for once didn’t sound too bad either. “I have work tonight so I’ll ask my boss about the roster, but I’ll definitely go.”

“ _It’s a date then,_ ” why _–_ oh why _–_ did that have to be his choice of words? Daichi was glad he wasn’t face to face with him. Only god knew how much of the conversation his face had been flushed for. “ _Oh, and wear something nice. Casual formal nice._ ”

“I _–_ casual formal, got it.” Daichi nodded as he glanced over his shoulder into the apartment. He wished he hadn’t, because Yui was standing right at the glass door behind him, still grinning as she held a cupped ear to the screen. With a tight frown, he slapped his hand to the glass door and ushered her away. She took a step back, surprised by the suddenness of it, but kept on grinning. “I have to go; I’ll text you later tonight with what time I can be at the studio.”

“ _Okay, have fun with your ex and her laced whatevers._ ” Daichi had foolishly hoped he might have forgotten the earlier half of their conversation. “ _I’ll see you this weekend, Daichi._ ”

“Uh _–_ yeah, see you then, Sugawara,” he uttered softly, unable to stop the smile that tugged at his lips.

There was a brief moment where they repeated their goodbyes before the call ended, and Daichi sighed heavily as he let his head fall back against the concrete wall with a dull thud. The sound of the motorcycle in the distance had gotten closer before fading entirely in the parking lot of his complex. Shimizu had awfully wonderful timing.

He didn’t have a single moment of peace thereafter though, as the glass door to the balcony slid open and startled him from its suddenness. Yui all but threw herself onto the balcony, a finger pointed at his chest as she sniggered and teased him about the phone call.

Daichi quickly retreated into the living room, trying _–_ and failing _–_ to lock her out on the balcony so he wouldn’t have to answer the torrent of questions; who was that, what’s their name, where did you meet and such.

He was thankfully saved by the sound of the doorbell ringing. Yui’s already wide grin grew, if at all possible, and she ducked under his arm to let Shimizu in. He couldn’t help but glare at the vacant space in front of him when the door swung open and he heard her loudly exclaim ‘ _Daichi just got a date_ – _by himself! Without anyone’s help! Can you believe it?_ ’

“I don’t deserve this…” Daichi murmured to himself as he shut the screen door properly.

He remained where he stood though, staring pointedly out the door as Yui scampered back to his side and shook his arm, grinning all the more as she filled Shimizu in on the few details she had overheard. Daichi could just barely hear Shimizu’s gentle laughter behind him.

As he stared out the window, gaze wandering the residential horizon ahead, a flash of black feathers streaming through the sky drew his eye in an instant. The familiar caw of a crow, or rather of several, could faintly be heard over Yui’s words that began to fade into white noise at his side. The murder of crows that flew high above, the dark onyx of their wings a stark contract to the cloudless blue sky, held his eye.

With a content smile, Daichi turned to greet Shimizu properly and was thankful that she distracted Yui long enough for the topic drop entirely. The two of them remained only a short time, with Daichi explaining that he would see her later that evening at the bar since he was swapping shifts. They carried out the few small boxes that remained and Yui’s near to bursting duffle bag of clothes downstairs to strap her belongings to the motorcycle’s bag-rack.

Daichi said one final goodbye, waving from the upper level of the apartment complex as they drove off, before heading back inside and settling back down on the couch. When he looked at his phone again, Sugawara had indeed sent him a text, and opening it up revealed the details of when and where to be for the tattoo exhibition.

The string of messages that followed after made him smile despite his best efforts.

‘ _I look forward to seeing you there._ ’

‘ _Remember: wear something nice. But not too nice, like you’re trying to show me up._ ’

‘ _Actually, I wouldn’t mind something to look at besides the display models. Go ahead. Dress to impress._ ’

‘ _Me that is._ ’

‘ _Impress me._ ’

‘ _I’ll see you there._ ’

Daichi couldn’t be certain if it fell into the category of brazen and confident flirting or an awkward attempt to do so. From what he knew of Sugawara, he was more inclined to the former, but the latter made him smile all the more and his stomach did a slight twist when he pondered the last few messages.

With a light sigh that emptied his lungs, Daichi lay down on his side on the couch, his legs falling well and truly over the armrest at one end as he stretched out. With his mind empty and yet engrossed with what had occurred only a little while ago, he pressed the flat of his palms to his eyes and shielded his vision from the bright sunlight streaming through the balcony door.

“What the hell am I getting myself into?” he asked the air, as if the voice of reason would answer him.

There was no response, real or otherwise, that answered the question.

But he was eager to find out, all the same.


End file.
